Missing
by MAJ8395
Summary: Harm is missing after his plane goes down at sea. Will Mac be able to find him?
1. The Water's Cold

Disclaimer: Don't own them, just trying to make right a wrong (getting Harm and Mac together before the end of season 10).

_A/N: Okay, call me insane for starting another story when I have one unfinished and another in the planning stages, but writing fan fiction is addictive! While writing "Making Things Right" and brainstorming the sequel to "Finding Harm," the idea for this story came to mind. The setting is around the time of Lifeline and Adrift. Slightly AU, so some of the dates and events will differ from the show._

**The Water's Cold**

**Olivia and Juliet's Restaurant  
May 25, 2001  
2015 Local**

Sounds of clinking glasses and words of congratulations filled the private dining room. Everyone was in high spirits following Lt. Roberts's toast. The junior attorney had shown up late to the rehearsal dinner, looking like a drowned rat. Despite his appearance—Bud always had the misfortune of having some clothing mishap occur during these types of events—he'd spoken from the heart.

Admiral A J Chegwidden nodded. The former Navy SEAL wasn't a sentimental person, but Bud's words touched something within him. At least the part of how he met Harriet. He couldn't agree with the words on Mac's marriage to Mic being a matter of destiny. But he knew Bud was in the position of having to say something appropriate for the occasion.

These people had become like family to him—Lieutenants Roberts and Sims, Tiner, Gunny Galindez, Mac, and her little "sister" Chloe. To a certain degree, even Lt. Singer. He supposed he _should_ include Mic Brumby and Renee Peterson in his feelings. After all, one was marrying his chief of staff, and the other was his senior attorney's "significant other" or whatever they called themselves these days.

_If ever there were two mismatched couples…_

But it was hard to think of either of them as being part of the JAG family. Renee was flighty and had no respect for the military. Brumby was—well downright smarmy. Somehow A J couldn't trust the former Australian officer.

"Chegwidden." When his cell phone rang, he turned away from the table to answer the call.

"Would the admiral like to add anything?" Bud asked as A J made his way back to the table. The lightning and thunder outside were no match for the internal storm he felt at this moment.

He cleared his throat. "I was just patched through to Captain Ingles, the skipper aboard the carrier Patrick Henry. Commander Rabb and his RIO, Lt. Hawkes, got into some trouble on a bingo to Andrews. They're believed to have gone down at sea."

Everyone spoke at the same time.

"Oh, my God."

"What?"

"No!"

Finally, Renee asked the question that was on everyone's mind. "Well, why would they be flying in this weather?"

"Harm was trying to get back in time for the ceremony."

To his dying day, A. J. knew he would never forget the look on Sarah Mackenzie's face when she heard those words.

**Flashback**

**JAG Headquarters  
May 7, 2001  
0800 Local**

"You want to do what?" A J hadn't intended to raise his voice to the commander, but the request came as a complete surprise.

Harm stood at attention as he spoke. "The JAG officer on board the Patrick Henry had a family emergency and is on leave for the next three weeks. I'm requesting the assignment, sir."

"Denied. I need you here, Commander. Do I have to remind you that Col. Mackenzie will be taking leave in a few weeks? That already puts me down one senior attorney. Besides, a junior officer can handle whatever is needed on the Henry."

"Sir, first of all, the temporary assignment is only for three weeks. I'm also due for my six-month quals, and I'll be able to do them while I'm there. I'll be back after Memorial Day. The Colonel's leave isn't scheduled to begin before then. And right now, we don't have many pending cases. Mattoni, Imes, and Lt. Roberts can handle anything that comes up."

"Maybe so, but this would be a step backward for you. What is it about you doing things that are setbacks to your career? Two years ago, you left to fly, and now this."

"I admit I made a mistake when I left before, Sir. But this is only temporary. I'm not requesting to change my designator."

"It's still a step backward."

"Admiral, Sir, I need this assignment."

"Why?"

"It's personal, Sir."

A J relaxed his stance. "At ease, Harm. Have a seat."

The admiral waited until the tall commander sat in one of the leather chairs before taking his seat behind the mahogany desk. Instinct told him this had something to do with Col. Mackenzie. He wasn't blind. The two of them spent most of Friday evening together. Outside. Alone. Mac was with Harm more than her fiancé. And it was _her_ engagement party.

He'd even had to send Tiner outside to bring them in. Although both of them put on brave faces and acted if nothing was wrong, A.J. sensed something had happened between the two of them.

"Want to talk about it, Son?"

Harm shifted in his chair. "Not really, Sir."

"Do I have to make it an order?"

"But, Sir—"

"Relax, Harm. Forget I'm your CO for a moment and talk to me as a friend."

The younger man hesitated and cast his eyes downward. "I don't think I can do this, Sir."

"Do what? Your job?"

"No, Admiral. I don't think I can sit back and watch Mac marry Brumby."

_So, the truth comes out._

A J had known sparks ignited from the moment he introduced the two of them. It didn't take long to see the chemistry between them. Yes, they worked good together—there wasn't a better team in JAG. But there was a connection, a friendship, a—dare he say—soul mates? He recalled his first "order" to them.

_Don't get too familiar. You're gonna work together._

And later in Sydney, when Mac had shown up wearing that damn Aussie's ring, he saw the look in Harm's eyes.

_Commander. Never look back._

Maybe he had made a mistake. Well, two mistakes.

"Have you talked to her? Told her how you feel?"

"We, uh… we talked on Friday night."

"And what did she say?"

"She said we were getting too good at saying goodbye and went straight to Brumby. She's made her decision, Admiral. Who am I to interfere?"

_Only the man she's in love with._

"Harm, when two people care for one another—"

"Sir, she chose Mic. I don't have to like it, and I don't have to be happy about it. But I'll be damned if I'm going to interfere."

"But you don't want to be here to witness this 'joyous union.'"

"No, sir. Not really."

"The assignment's yours, Commander. I hope you're not making a mistake. And I'm not talking about your career."

**Somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean  
May 26, 2001  
0430 Local**

Drifting. Alone. Dark. Cold. The sea was rough tonight, the wave relentless. Nothing about this flight had gone right. First, the low-level oxygen, then the storm that moved faster than anyone anticipated, and finally, the plane failed to respond. The late ejection, the shroud lines wrapped around his neck, the jammed release.

_Water's cold out there_

Commander Loftness's words replayed in his mind. Had it been an omen? Why hadn't he remained on board and waited for the morning COG? It wasn't like he _wanted_ to watch Mac walk down the aisle to Bugme.

But, foolishly, he made her a promise.

**Flashback**

**JAG Headquarters  
May 7, 2001  
0900 Local**

"Harm, where are you going?" Mac caught him before he got on the elevator.

"TAD to the Patrick Henry. The JAG on board had to take emergency leave. I'll be away for a few weeks."

"A few weeks! How long is that?"

"I'll be back Memorial Day weekend."

"The weekend. Saturday? Sunday? Monday? Harm, you know my wedding is that Saturday morning."

"Yes, I do."

"And?"

"Look, Mac. I was already scheduled to do my six-month quals. This way, I'll kill two birds with one stone."

"I'm sure there's someone else who can handle the TAD. And can't you do your quals another time?"

"To answer your first question, the Admiral gave the assignment to me. The answer to your second question is not for another six months."

"Harm you fly maximum two, maybe three times a year. And for that, you risk missing my wedding?"

"I didn't consider it a risk."

"No, the truth is you didn't consider it important."

"Hey, Mac. Slow down. First of all, doing my quals was arranged before you set a date."

"Harm, I—"

Something about the look in her eyes touched him. She looked lost, lonely. Like she was searching for answers. "Look, I'll do my best to get back."

"I still don't know why you have to go."

"Duty, Mac."

"Yeah sure, it's those damn quals. Nothing comes between you and flying. Not even your best friend's wedding."

"Frankly Mac, if you need me at your wedding to make it work, maybe you should reconsider who it is your marrying."

He knew then he'd pushed the wrong button.

"Mac—"

"Have fun."

"Aren't you going to wish me luck?"

She turned and stormed away.

**Present Day**

He hadn't talked to her since then. But the look in her eyes haunted him the entire time on the carrier. She might be a brave Marine on the outside, but on the inside, she was vulnerable.

How had they gotten to this point? He'd asked her a similar question on the Watertown.

The three weeks on the Henry had given him a lot of time to think. He' had relived the mistakes he'd made with her over and over in his mind. The biggest one in Sydney. He hadn't intended to push her away, but he did. Straight into the arms of Brumby.

And then the night on the Admiral's porch…

_Mac, you have someone who will always love you._

_And you have someone who loves you._

Sure, she'd gone back inside to Mic. What else was she supposed to do? But they had stood side-by-side, the backs of their hands brushing.

He'd be dammed if he was going to lose her to that Aussie. So, instead of waiting, he'd climbed in the cockpit of an F-14.

_Waters cold out there._

He was tired, cold, weary. Harm didn't have Mac's sense of timing, but he knew he'd been in the water for hours. How much longer could he hold on?

_As long as it takes._

But hours passed without any signs of someone coming to rescue him. He couldn't hold on much longer.

_Harm! _

Was it Mac's voice?

_Where are you, Harm?_

Yes, she was here. Calling him.

_No. Mac's not here. It's your imagination._

But after hearing her voice, he was no longer cold. He felt warm, drowsy.

_What's that light? A rescue helo?_

But there was no sound of rotor blades. Even the sounds of the waves had diminished. There was only light and warmth.

He was in a long tunnel. Heading for the source of light.

_Peaceful. It's so peaceful._

Was this Heaven? He was drawn to the light. To the warmth. And somehow, he knew there was no turning back.

"I'm sorry, Mac."

He closed his eyes and allowed the waves to pull him under.


	2. Searching

_A/N: Thanks to everyone who left a review on the last chapter. I appreciate the encouragement. I love happy endings, but there's going to be a little angst in this story before we learn Harm's fate. _

**Searching**

**Olivia and Juliet's Restaurant  
May 25, 2001  
2100 Local**

"Almighty and merciful God, as we await the fate of our comrades…"

Mac closed her eyes and listened as the chaplain said a prayer for Harm and Lt. Hawkes. Her thoughts drifted to the last time she spoke with him.

Aren't you going to wish me luck?

But she refused, allowing anger and hurt to stand in the way. He was her best friend. Why couldn't he attend her wedding?

_You know the reason._

_But he pushed me away._

_Did he?_

_Yes, he said he couldn't let go._

_No, he said "not yet."_

"Amen."

When the chaplain finished the prayer, Mac switched into her "take charge" mode. She sought out a waiter and had him bring a phone into the room so they could communicate with the Patrick Henry. It wasn't long before search and rescue had picked up a survivor.

"We have a survivor on board. It's Lt. Hawkes."

Where was Harm?

"Any sign of Commander Rabb?" Admiral Chegwidden asked.

"No, sir. Let me ask Lt. Hawkes. She didn't see Commander Rabb eject, sir."

"Any speculation as to where he is?"

"Hard to say. He could have punched out late. That would put him—"

"What's happening, Angel?" Captain Ingles asked.

"We're getting pushed around, skipper."

"Can you keep her in the air?"

"I'm trying, sir! I'm trying!"

"Viking, take another sweep of the area before we call it quits."

"Roger that, skipper."

"Under those conditions, the commander could be a few hundred yards away," Mac said. They can't leave before they locate Harm.

"We've identified the problem, Colonel. Those conditions are dangerous for all."

"Sir, with all due respect."

"We can't risk an entire crew for one survivor."

"This is Admiral Chegwidden, Captain. No one is blaming you. When will you launch again?"

"When the weather improves, Sir."

"Thank you, captain. Carry on."

"Aye, aye, sir."

The Admiral pressed the button to end the call. Mac ran from the room, needing to be alone. She found a quiet spot near a window. Lightning flashed, and rain pelted against the building, but the storm outside was no match for the one raging within her.

_Mac, you have someone who will always love you._

He'd told her he loved her. Okay, his words left room for interpretation, but the kiss they shared that night said it all.

_And you have someone who loves you._

Yes, she loved him. Probably had since Red Rock Mesa. How did things get so messed up? Why couldn't they make things work? She was at her rehearsal dinner. Tomorrow was her wedding day, and she was marrying a man who loved and cherished her. It should be the happiest day of her life. Why then did she feel so miserable.

_Because you don't love Mic._

_But I do love him. After all, I agreed to marry him._

_You're settling._

_No! Mic loves me. He's offered me a home, marriage, a family._

_And what do you think he'll do about your relationship with Harm?_

_Nothing. Harm and I work together. We're best friends. Mic understands._

_Does he?_

A week earlier, when she was researching the events that occurred with Captain Mackenzie on the USS Somers, she'd had a dream. Or was it a vision?

She'd seen Mic as Captain Mackenzie. Saw the execution of the four men. When she saw the fourth man's face… It was Harm. Was the dream an omen? Would Mic destroy her relationship with Harm? Make her sever all ties?

_You know he will._

A loud clap of thunder jolted her from her thoughts. None of that would matter now if they couldn't locate Harm.

_If he's gone, what will I do without him? I didn't even tell him goodbye. Didn't wish him luck._

Tears rolled down her cheeks. She cried for her best friend. Wept for the man she loved.

That was how Mic found her a few minutes later.

"Sarah, are you okay?"

Wiping the tears, she turned to him. "I'm fine, Mic. Just needed some time alone."

"They found Skates. They'll find Harm. Come back out, Sarah. You need to be with those who love you." He reached to take her hand.

_Yes, I do need to be with him. But right now, he's missing._

"Not now, Mic." She turned, then walked away.

**JAG Headquarters  
May 25, 2001  
0330 Local**

Admiral Chegwidden "rallied the troops," and they all gathered back at JAG Headquarters. One of their own was missing. They couldn't be part of the search team, but they weren't going to remain idle.

Bud ordered Tiner to tune in ZNN as well as the Navy and Marine Corps news. He had Gunny get charts of the Western Atlantic and place them on a rolling bulletin board.

Mac sat in her office, still feeling numb. Mic was on the phone, checking on wedding preparations. He ended the call. "Tables and linens arrived at the hall. They're unloading the flowers as we speak. Why don't we wait and see what happens before we postpone the wedding? If they find him in the next few hours—"

"They'll take him to sickbay, and we'll be waiting for a report on his condition."

"But Sarah, it's our wedding."

Mac rose from the chair. "You don't get it, do you, Mic? My best friend is missing."

"Your best friend? And what am I?"

Her eyes flashed anger. "Don't go there. I don't need this from you right now. There is no way I'm going through with a wedding until I hear news about Harm."

"And I don't have a say in this?"

"Stop being so damn selfish!"

"Okay, I'll make some phone calls." Mic left the office.

Bud stuck his head in the door. "Ma'am, we just heard the storm is easing, and they're resuming the search for Commander Rabb."

"Thank you, Bud. Have you seen Chloe?"

"I'm right here," the teenager said. "Any luck yet?"

"Come in and close the door."

"Are you okay?"

"No." Tears began to roll down her cheeks.

"But Mac, it's Harm. Isn't he, like, invincible?"

"It doesn't look good."

"You don't talk like that."

"Just being realistic."

"Then why aren't you trying to find him?"

"He's in the middle of the ocean."

"No, like you found me. The time I was thrown from my horse."

_Why didn't I think of that? Harm once said he always knew where I was. Can I do the same thing for him?_

"Okay, Chloe, but I'm going to need your help."

Mac closed her eyes and held Chloe's hand. In her mind's eye, she saw churning waves. The sea was rough, the conditions dangerous.

_Harm!_

_Where are you, Harm? _

Why couldn't she feel his presence? See where he was?

_Think. Concentrate harder._

And that's when she saw it. A life raft. Floating on the waves. The only trouble was the raft was empty. Still, she had to try. She walked into the bullpen and pointed at the coordinates on Bud's map.

* * *

It was daybreak when Admiral Chegwidden assembled everyone in the bullpen. "I just received word from Captain Ingles. They've continued to search, but other than finding his empty raft, there is no sign of Commander Rabb. With the sea conditions and water temperatures as they are, the chance of survival after these many hours is next to impossible. I'm sorry, people." The usually tough as nails SEAL's voice broke. He turned and reentered his office.

The silence in the bullpen was overwhelming. Everyone was shocked to learn Harm likely hadn't survived. Mac rushed to her office and closed the door.

_It's my fault. If I hadn't been so adamant about him attending my wedding._

"I'm sorry, Harm."

She laid her head on her desk and sobbed.


	3. Denial

_A/N: It's no secret I detest Mic Brumby, but I allowed him to have one redeemable moment in this chapter. As for the rest of the story? Well, you'll see. And the Video Princess? Bleh!_

**Denial**

**JAG Headquarters  
June 7, 2001  
0800 Local**

Lt. Harriet Sims watched as her friend and fellow officer, Lt. Col. Sarah Mackenzie, stepped off the elevator. Two weeks had passed since Commander Rabb's plane went down in the Atlantic. Two weeks since he'd been reported missing. Two weeks with no signs of his body.

Harriet shuddered to even think about the latter. In her mind, not finding a body meant there was still hope. But realistically, she knew his chances of survival after spending hours in the frigid water had been slim.

A couple of days after the accident, Harm's mother and stepfather flew in from California. A prayer vigil was held at the chapel where the JAG staff gathered every Christmas Eve. Trish Burnett refused to call it a memorial service.

Only Harm's closest friends were invited to attend—members of JAG, some members of his fighter squadron when he was on the Patrick Henry-including Lt. Hawkes. Captain Tobias Ingles and a few others were also present.

Clayton Webb attended with his mother. In place of the spook's usual smirky attitude was one of sadness. Even Mic Brumby appeared to be sorrowful. Harriet sensed there was a lot of tension between Mac and him, but he stepped up to the plate and defended her against Renee Peterson.

The Video Princess sat in the front pew with the Trish and Frank Burnett, acting more like a grieving widow rather than a girlfriend. She wept during the entire service, making everyone uncomfortable. Renee's actions made it seem more like a funeral. The only things missing were flowers and a flag-draped coffin.

At one point, when her sobbing became uncontrollable, Trish was visibly shaken. Frank Burnett attempted to comfort his wife while Admiral Chegwidden escorted Renee from the sanctuary. But it was later, when everyone left the chapel and had gathered outdoors, that Renee pulled her biggest stunt.

She had composed herself and once again stuck to the Burnetts like glue. For someone who had supposedly cried as much as she did, her makeup was flawless, leaving Harriet to believe the tears were fake.

Mac and Mic were among the last people to exit the chapel. Trish looked on in disgust as Renee began to sob again and pointed to Mac. "It's her fault. If he hadn't been trying to get back for her damn wedding, he'd be alive today."

Then, she lunged toward the Marine Lieutenant Colonel. "How could you? Harm would do anything for you, including risking his life to satisfy your every desire. I can't understand the connection you two had. You… you killed him."

Harriet had never seen Mac speechless before. Her face paled as she looked at the ranting woman standing before her.

Mic Brumby looked as if he wanted to strangle the women. "Shut up, Renee You have no right to speak to her that way. Sarah had nothing to do with this. Can't you see she's grieving too?"

Renee ignored him and looked straight at her rival. "You always had a hold on Harm. He'd do anything to please his precious Marine. And now he's gone. He is never coming back. You have Mic, and I have no one. I'm left with nothing! Nothing, you hear me. Nothing!"

Clayton Webb and Alan Mattoni were the closest to Renee. They both stepped forward, took her by the arms, and led her away. Porter Webb, who looked upon the scene with disgust, smiled graciously and said to Renee, "I think someone needs to get you home dear. Come. You can ride in my limousine.

She cast a knowing look at Trish Burnett, who nodded in appreciation. Once Renee was gone, Trish made her way toward Mac. "It wasn't your fault, darling. Don't ever believe that. No one ever talked my son into doing something he didn't want to do, especially flying. If he decided to fly that night, nothing or no one could stop him."

Mac smiled and thanked Trish, but Harriet sensed she harbored some guilt. She wasn't sure what had gone on between the Colonel and the Commander the night of the engagement party, only that the two of them spent most of the evening together. Alone.

And Mac hardly acted like a happy bride to be. Harriet questioned her friend the day she tried on her wedding gown. Mac said she was happy, but there was a bit of sadness in her eyes.

The last two weeks, Mac came to work each day. Unless it was for a staff meeting or to consult with one of the other lawyers, she stayed in her office and didn't talk to anyone unless they initiated the conversation. Bud once made the mistake of saying something about keeping their schedules free for when she and Mic rescheduled the wedding, and Mac snapped back at him.

"Bud, you were Harm's friend. How can you even think about a wedding right now?" After that, no one dared to mention it again.

When Mac approached, Harriet put forth her best smile. "Good morning, Ma'am."

"Harriet," Mac nodded before going into her office and closing the door.

Something was different today. In place of the sadness on her face was a look of pure anger.

Mac pressed the power button for her computer, then drummed her fingers on her desk while waiting for it to boot up. What she needed was a cup of coffee, but getting one entailed a stop in the breakroom. Someone always wanted to lend a sympathetic ear, reminisce about Harm, or question her about the wedding.

She couldn't handle any of those things right now—especially questions about her decision to postpone getting married.

Mic had been waiting at her apartment when she got home yesterday, wanting to set a new date.

"Sarah, it's been two weeks. Don't you think it's time we moved forward?"

"Not now, Mic. I don't want to discuss it."

"Bloody hell, Sarah. Who do you think you're talking to? A stranger? I'm the man you're marrying. I know Harm was your friend, but he's gone. You can't do anything to change the situation. Don't you think he'd want you to go on with your life?"

"Stop talking about him like he's dead! You don't know that!"

"Sarah, Luv, you've got to stop living in denial. If Harm were alive, someone would have found him by now. You need to get on with your life."

"Can't you understand I need time?"

"What I understand is you need me. Sarah, once we married, I promise you'll be happy."

"You can't promise me something you don't know the answer to."

_Don't make a promise you can't keep._

_I haven't yet._

Mac thought back a time they'd stood on the steps of JAG headquarters. It was a day filled with hope. The birth of a child and the possibility of having a baby with Harm.

_Oh, God. He's not here to keep his promise. What am I going to do?_

"Sarah? Sarah!" Mic's voice grew louder.

"What do you want, Mic?"

"I'm trying to have a conversation with my fiancé about our wedding. I've already made a few phone calls. The church is available, the chaplain's schedule is free, the caterers are good to go. We could get married next weekend."

"I've told you before, never assume. This is not the right time to talk about it."

"And when will be the right time? I have a right to know."

"Stop being so selfish! Can't you see the last thing on my mind is a wedding?"

_If you need me at your wedding to make it work, maybe you should reconsider who it is your marrying._

"Sarah, I gave everything up for you. Resigned my commission. Moved almost 10,000 miles—"

"Nobody asked you to do that. As usual, you _assumed_ that's what I'd want and took it upon yourself."

"I may have _assumed,_ but you still agreed to marry me. You don't have to give me an answer tonight. I'll give you until Monday. Then I demand an answer."

"Yeah, well, hell will freeze over first. You've tried to dictate my life and my time since you moved back to Washington. No more."

Mic raised his voice. "Sarah, I've been patient with you. I stood by all these months while you and Rabb went out on investigations together. I tried to act as if nothing was wrong when you spent the entire evening of our engagement party with him. But damn it, even in death, he's coming between us."

"Shut up, Mic. I already told you to stop talking about Harm like he was dead."

"Sarah, you're in denial."

"Get out of my apartment."

"You don't mean that, Luv."

"I do. Get out right now."

Mic stood up, then walked to the door. He turned back. "This isn't the end, Sarah. I'm willing to forgive because I know your grieving. I'll be back."

The intercom buzzed, jostling Mac from her thoughts.

"Excuse me, Colonel," Jason Tiner said. "The admiral has called a special staff meeting in fifteen minutes in the conference room."

"Thanks, Tiner."

She reached for a stack of files on her desk. Might as well get some work done while she waited. With Harm's disappearance, the workload had increased.

Mac opened the first folder—one of Harm's cases. She recognized the bold handwriting immediately.

Tears rushed down her face. "Oh, Harm. You can't be dead. Somehow, I would know if you were. But why can't I find you?"

She pushed the file aside, then closed her eyes.

Visions of ocean waves flashed through her mind. A rocky crevice that gave way to sand. A darkened room. Someone was lying in a bed. The person was not moving. If only she could see the face. Or was it a coffin?

Mac opened her eyes, unwilling to entertain the idea of Harm's coffin. Her internal clock said it was time for the staff meeting. She rose from her desk, and started toward the conference room, looking at the darkened office next to hers.

Harm's things were still there—his model Steerman, his helmet, photos. The only thing missing was him.

_Where are you, Harm?_


	4. Visions

_A/N: Sorry for the delay in updating. I'm working on a big project unrelated to Fanfiction and haven't had much time to write. This chapter is short, and not one I had planned. The idea presented itself a few days ago, and I had to write it._

**Visions**

**Unknown Date  
Unknown Place  
Unknown Time**

A crowd of people gathered outside the church—some men dressed in military uniforms, others in suits and ties. Most of the women wore dark-colored dresses. It seemed, by all accounts, a somber event.

The building itself was large and ornate with stone walls, intricately designed stained-glass windows, and a massive steeple.

He made his way inside. A grandiose display of flowers filled the altar. There was almost no space available, and their smell overpowering, even though the sanctuary was huge.

A few people stopped to light a candle before sitting in one of the many pews. As expected, with an occasion such as this, several women wiped tears from their eyes.

He sat on the left side of the church near the back. Somehow, he couldn't bring himself to move any closer. It was if he didn't want to face what was about to happen at the altar. As others entered, he recognized many of them. Commander Mattoni and his wife, Lt. Singer, Gunnery Sgt. Galindez, Carolyn Imes.

Others he didn't know. Much smaller in number, they sat on the right side of the church, and he saw for the first time those women wore brightly colored dresses. It seemed like a strange mix of people. Inexplicably absent were Bud and Harriet, The Admiral, and Mac. Who was he to question why?

It wasn't long before a Navy Chaplain entered the sanctuary, followed by none other than Mic Brumby and Bud Roberts.

Why the hell was Brumby here? He didn't belong. When the organist began to play, everyone turned to look toward the back of the church. Chloe walked in, followed by Harriet. When everyone stood, he followed suit.

And that's when he saw her. Mac, dressed in a long, white gown, on the arm of Admiral Chegwidden.

Unlike most brides, she wasn't smiling. He'd seen brighter faces at a funeral. The thought crossed his mind that the organist was playing the wrong march.

Brumby, on the other hand, grinned from ear to ear. The people seated on the right side of the church smiled. The facial expressions of those on the left matched Mac's.

He looked again toward the altar and met Brumby's gaze. That arrogant, self-serving bastard had the audacity to wink at him.

_One of these days, Brumby, I'm going to kick your ass._

Mac and the Admiral reached the front of the church. He placed a quick kiss on her cheek before taking a seat on the first row.

She linked arms with Mic, and they moved toward the chaplain. This was all wrong. Why couldn't Mac see she was about to make the biggest mistake of her life?

The chaplain began to speak. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join this man and woman in Holy Matrimony. If anyone here can show just cause why these two should not be married, let him speak now or forever hold his peace."

Harm stood. He had to say something. Had to stop Mac from making a mistake.

"I can, Chaplain." Everyone in the church turned toward him.

Mac's eyes grew wide in surprise.

Bud had that "I'm acting clueless" look he often got when he wanted to trick his opponents in the courtroom.

Chegwidden's unspoken words said, "It's about damn time."

Brumby was enraged. He had a look of murderous intent.

The chaplain spoke, "Then step forward, sir."

He stepped into the aisle and began to walk toward the front. Suddenly, instead of seeing Mac and Mic standing there with their attendants, he saw a flag-draped casket. Everyone dressed in dark colors.

Mac sat between Admiral Chegwidden and Bud, weeping. He needed to get to her. To tell her he was okay, but water surrounded him. Everything was dark and cold.

_Water's cold out there._

The sensation didn't last long before he felt a sense of contentment. Of light. Of warmth. He might never want to leave this place. Except there was one problem.

Mac wasn't with him.


	5. Decisions

_A/N: One of the settings in this story is a product of my imagination. I have no idea about the logistics of uninhabited islands off the coast of North Carolina, so let's say I'm using creative license here._

**Decisions**

**JAG Headquarters  
June 7, 2001  
0900 Local**

Admiral A J Chegwidden enjoyed his job as Judge Advocate General. The staff members under his command were dedicated to their jobs, and his team of lawyers was the finest he'd had the privilege to serve with. Each one had a strong desire for the truth (except for Lt. Singer, whose ambitions took precedence over anything). They would go above and beyond to ensure justice was served.

Although it went against military protocol, this team had become almost like family. Collectively, they'd celebrated a marriage, a birth, grieved the loss of a child, death of a parent, and found the long-awaited answer to the fate of another parent.

Everyone worked like a well-oiled machine. Sure, there had been disagreements, especially between his two senior attorneys. When you have two strong-willed people, something like that is bound to happen. But Rabb and Mackenzie were not only outstanding in the courtroom. They were one of the best investigative teams around.

He recalled the day he warned two of them not to get too familiar with one another. The chemistry was there from the beginning. Within months of Mac coming to JAG headquarters, he'd half expected them to become romantically involved, necessitating a transfer for one of them.

But it never happened. For two people who were so smart, how could they not see what everyone else did?

A J wasn't sure what happened in Sydney. He knew that damned Aussie had been pursuing Mac almost from the time he arrived in DC. But he also knew Mac had resisted his efforts—even complaining about Mic's request for US Navy assistance to get her to Australia

Then she showed up at the airport wearing Brumby's ring. Rabb did a decent job of not showing his emotions, but A J saw through the façade. And when he finally confessed his feelings…

Chegwidden shook his head. It was a moot point now.

He walked from his office to the conference room. As is the case with any command position, there were always things he'd rather not have to do. Today was one of those times. It wasn't something he looked forward to. As he entered the room, his officers stood.

Everyone was present—Lt. Roberts, Commander Mattoni, Lieutenants Singer and Sims, and one downhearted Lt. Colonel. Well, not everyone was there. The vacant chair next to the head of the table served as a painful reminder of Commander Rabb's absence. It also reminded him of what he needed to do.

"As you were," he said, as he took his seat. The officers did likewise, then looked in his direction. All except Mac. She stared vacantly at the wall.

A J cleared his throat. "You all are aware Commander Rabb's absence has left us short-handed. Commander Mattoni's upcoming transfer in a couple of weeks will put an additional burden on our caseload.

"Lt. Cdr. Rick Hughes is transferring from our Pearl Office. I worked with the commander during my time at Pearl, and he's an outstanding attorney. He reports on Monday and will be moving into Commander Rabb's office." A J lowered his voice. "I've asked Petty Officer Tiner to remove Harm's personal belongings and place them in storage."

Mac snapped to attention. "You can't do that, Admiral."

"Why not, Colonel?"

"Because to do that… to remove… to give Harm's office to…" Mac's voice broke.

It was the first sign of emotion he'd seen in her since the night Harm's plane went down. He softened his voice. "I realize his disappearance has been hard on all of us, probably you most of all, but as commanding officer, I have to do what's best for the office. I'm sorry, Colonel, but we need to move on—no matter how painful it might be."

"But sir. This means you believe he's not coming back. You think he's …dead." She gasped, rose from her chair, then rushed from the room.

A J looked at the grim faces of the other officers. They also believed Harm was dead, but none would voice their beliefs in front of Mac. "Lt. Sims, would you look after the Colonel?"

"Aye, aye, sir." Harriet stood, then left the room.

**Sarah Mackenzie's Apartment  
June 7, 2001  
1130 Local**

Lt. Harriet Sims quietly closed the bedroom door, then stepped into Mac's kitchen. After Admiral Chegwidden asked her to check, she found the Colonel in the women's restroom sobbing uncontrollably. It was totally out of character for her, but Harriet knew how close Mac was to the commander.

When the admiral learned of how upset she was, he ordered Harriet to take Mac home and stay with her.

It had taken some convincing, but Mac finally lay down for a nap. Harriet's next step was to convince her to eat. She rummaged through the cabinets, hoping to find enough ingredients to make a pot of chicken soup.

She was in luck. Pulling a package of chicken from the freezer, she placed it in the microwave to defrost when someone knocked at the door. She looked through the peephole to see Mic Brumby standing on the other side.

How did he know Mac would be home in the middle of the day? He hadn't been to JAG headquarters since the night Harm's plane went down, nor had anyone seen him since the afternoon of the prayer vigil. And after Mac's outburst, no one dared question her about the wedding.

But he was Mac's fiancé. She still wore his ring, so it seemed only right for her to open the door.

She barely had time to open the door before Mic barged into the room. "Where's Sarah?"

"She's asleep."

He started toward the bedroom door.

"Mic, this isn't a good time."

"When did you become her keeper? Do I have to make an appointment to see my fiancée?"

In the years Harriet had known the Australian, he'd never been rude to her. But something was different about him today. "Mic, please, don't go in there. She's resting. She received some bad news today, and it upset her."

"What? Did they find Rabb's body? Will his ghost now come between Sarah and me? Of course, it will. He came between us when he was alive. Why should I expect anything different now that he's DEAD?" Mic's voice grew louder.

"Mic, please lower your voice. I know you're upset, but this isn't about you. Harm and Mac were best friends for years. Show her some compassion, please?"

"Compassion? You expect ME to show HER compassion? Why can't SHE do the same for ME?"

The bedroom door flung open to reveal one enraged Marine. "What's going on here?"

"I'm sorry, Ma'am. He knocked at the door, and I—"

"No need to apologize, Harriet." Mac looked toward Mic with fire in her eyes. "How dare you?"

"What?"

"How dare you come barging in here demanding to see me?"

"I AM your fiancé. And you've been ignoring me." His voice softened, "Sarah, I—"

Harriet's eye's widened as Mac ignored his pleading tone.

"And how dare you say Harm is dead."

"Well, you know he is. It's been weeks…"

"Get out."

"What?"

"You heard me. Get out."

"Sarah, I—"

Mac twisted the engagement ring from her finger, then flung it at Brumby. "Get out and take your damned ring with you." She turned, stormed back into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her."

Harriet could only look on in shock at the scene she'd witnessed.

**Undisclosed Location  
June 7, 2001  
1700 Local**

Malcolm Stewart lived the kind of life he'd always wanted. A life most people wouldn't dare attempt. Twenty years earlier, he'd quit his job, sold his home, and left friends behind to move to an uninhabited island in the Atlantic. The idea started when he read the story of a man who lived alone in the Alaskan wilderness. Though the idea appealed to him, he didn't want to live in a place with harsh winter conditions. Island living was perfect, so he began to plan the moment he graduated from college.

To say he was a total recluse wouldn't be accurate. He made trips to the mainland twice a year for supplies but was pretty much self-sufficient. Malcolm built the small hut himself. It was set in a cove that provided protection from the harshest elements.

Visitors were rare. Occasionally, a boat would venture near, or one of his oldest friends would fly out in his amphibious plane for a visit. But for the most part, air and sea traffic were sparse in this area.

That's why he'd been so surprised during his early morning walk on the beach two weeks earlier.


	6. Adjustments

_A/N: A short chapter. Mac struggles to come to terms with having a new partner, and admitting Harm may be dead._

**Adjustments**

**JAG Headquarters  
June 11, 2001  
0700 Local**

Mac arrived at JAG headquarters long before most of the other staff, walked through the bullpen to her office, then closed both her door and the blinds. Deep down, she knew the admiral had made the right decision in bringing in a new lawyer to fill the gap left by Harm, but it didn't mean she had to like it. And she certainly didn't want a bird's eye view of someone else sitting in Harm's office.

She was glad she wasn't around when Tiner and Gunny removed Harm's personal belongings on Thursday afternoon. It was bad enough she'd had to endure the sight of the empty office when she returned on Friday. Now, there was nothing to indicate Harmon Rabb, Jr. ever occupied the space. His model Tomcat, Stearman, and helmet were gone. Personal photos and other items had been boxed away, although Mac had no idea what Tiner did with them. She hoped he hadn't given them to Renee. Harm's mother should have them—no one else. Someone had even removed his nameplate from above the door.

It wouldn't be the first time another person occupied the space next to her. When Harm left JAG to go back to flying, Mic had moved in. Not only into Harm's office but eventually into her life. She should have never allowed things to go as far as they did. Should have trusted her gut instinct from the time she met him. Never should have agreed to that first dinner with him. Never should have gone with him to the beach in Sydney, and most of all shouldn't have accepted his ring.

Mac absently rubbed her now bare finger. Funny how she didn't miss it. Matter of fact, she felt as if a huge weight had been lifted. A sickening feeling washed over her when she thought of Mic's visit to her apartment a few days earlier. She hadn't been in the mood to see anyone—least of all him. But in true self-serving fashion, he barged in and demanded to see her. Everything was always about him, and he had a way of manipulating her into feeling guilty.

He'd made the sacrifice to give up his career. He'd given up a lucrative job so he wouldn't have to defend the doctor who delivered little Sarah Roberts. Mic had turned on the pity party because he couldn't find a job, could no longer afford his own apartment. So she'd moved the ring and allowed him to move in with her.

But when he'd started in about Harm a few days ago, it was the last straw. How dare Mic insinuate Harm was dead? Mac's struggled with her inner thoughts.

_But isn't he? It's been over two weeks._

_No! He can't be. Somehow, I would know it._

_Then why can't you find him?_

Mac closed her eyes and tried to focus. The night of his crash, she'd seen the empty life raft. She'd attempted to "find" him several times since then, but only once had gotten a glimpse of ocean waves and what was either a bed or a coffin. She didn't want to think about the latter possibility.

The buzzing intercom was a welcome relief. "Col. Mackenzie."

"Ma'am, the admiral wants to see you in his office ASAP."

"Thank you, Tiner."

Mac rose, then made her way to her CO's office.

Tiner stood when she entered the room. "He said to go right in, Ma'am."

She opened the door to Chegwidden's office. "You wanted to see me, Sir?"

"Come in, Colonel, and have a seat. Close the hatch behind you."

For the first time, she noticed the uniformed officer sitting in front of the admiral's desk_. Sitting in Harm's chair!_ What gave him the right?

"Lt. Col. Sarah Mackenzie, meet your new partner, Lt. Cdr. Rick Hughes."

Commander Hughes stood. "Col. Mackenzie. I look forward to working with you."

Mac ignored him. "My new partner? But, Sir—"

"I thought we'd settled this, Colonel."

"I understand the need to bring in someone else, but why do I have to partner with him? I don't _need_ anyone."

"But the commander needs someone to show him the ropes."

"Why not, Lt. Roberts?"

"Because I want a senior officer to do the task. Do you have a problem with following orders?"

Mac snapped to attention. "No, sir!"

"Fine. Then the first thing is to show Commander Hughes to his new office. Dismissed."

"Yes, sir!" Both officers said in unison.

Mac turned, then left the office without bothering to see if Hughes had followed. She stormed across the bullpen, ignoring the curious looks of everyone. When she reached Harm's office, she stopped so abruptly that Cdr. Hughes bumped into her. She whirled around and glared at him.

"I'm sorry, Colonel."

"Next time, pay more attention."

"I'll do that. But may I ask why you seem angry with me?"

"No, you may not."

"All right. Then would you mind showing me my office."

Without so much as a glance, she pointed toward the space Harm once occupied.

"Right through there." She turned, then stormed into her own office, slamming the door behind her.

* * *

**North of Union Station  
June 11, 2001  
1900 Local**

Somehow Mac managed to make it through the first day with Commander Hughes. Endured the pleasantries from the other officers toward their new coworker during the staff meeting. Hughes was a charmer who flashed his smile like a strobe light. An annoying strobe light. It wasn't Harm's smile.

_That's a very nice smile, and I'm sure most of the time it gets you what you want. But I don't know you, commander. So if you don't mind, I'll keep my personal reasons to myself._

If only she could see his smile again.

Then the admiral said he would be sending her out with Hughes for investigations. It wasn't right.

Hughes knocked on her office door mid-afternoon. "Mind if I have a word with you, Colonel?"

"Make it brief."

"What do you have against me? Everyone else has welcomed me, but with you, the atmosphere is colder than Antarctica. What gives?"

Mac looked at the junior officer. Hughes probably wasn't a bad person. Not bad to look at either. He wasn't as tall as Harm—probably six-feet, had the same dark brown hair, but brown eyes. Mac could never completely decipher the color of Harm's eyes. His service record stated blue, but at times they looked green. Other times, like when they kissed on the admiral's porch, they turned smoky gray.

"Colonel?"

Mac cleared her throat. "Sorry, Commander. You were saying?"

"I asked what you have against me."

"Nothing. You're here to do a job. I'm here to do mine. Fate or whatever has put under the same command, so there's no reason to get personal."

_Don't get too familiar. You two have to work together._

"Interesting. From what I hear about your last partner, the two of you were close."

"That's none of your business. Now get out of my office. I have work to do as I'm sure you do. Otherwise, I'll tell the admiral you're not needed here."

"But Mac, I—"

Mac's blood boiled. "That's Colonel Mackenzie to you. I am a superior officer, and you will treat me with respect. Dismissed."

"Yes, ma'am."

She supposed she had been too hard on Hughes. It wasn't his fault Harm was missing or that he'd been assigned to headquarters. But she still couldn't shake the feeling his assignment to Falls Church was a little premature. Harm was alive. She could feel it.

That evening, instead of going home, she drove to his apartment. Now she stood outside the door, debating on whether to go inside. This was Harm's home. She had no right to invade his personal space.

_But he's not here. And you do have a spare key._

She removed the key from her purse, unlocked the door, then stepped inside.

The place was as he'd left it. M wandered into the kitchen, taking note of the potted herbs on the windowsill. They weren't even wilted. She felt the soil. It was still damp. Someone had been tending them. But who? Renee? Doubtful. Mac heard she'd left for California shortly after Harm's prayer vigil.

Mac left the kitchen, then walked up the steps to the bedroom. Harm's bed was made. In the bathroom, a towel was draped over the glass blocks of the shower. Probably the one he'd used his last morning here. Drawn to it like a moth to a flame, she walked over and buried her face in the thick terry-cloth texture. The scent was uniquely Harm. After a few minutes, she went back to the bedroom. Dropping down on the bed, she grabbed a pillow and hugged it to her body. It too smelled of Harm.

_Where are you, flyboy? Please come back to me. I promise we'll get it right this time. I need you, Harm._

Tears filled her eyes as she drifted off to sleep.

Twenty-seven minutes later, she awoke with a start. Had it been a dream? She saw a beach and a rocky cove. A man walked near the shore. It was a man. He was tall, with dark brown hair. She couldn't see his face, but…

She sat straight up in bed. "Harm?"


	7. Alive

_A/N: When I began writing chapter eight, I ran into a problem. I felt like I'd written myself into a corner with no way out. After much deliberation, I decided to rewrite the first part of this chapter. The differences are subtle, but I think necessary. I've also made a few changes to the first six chapters (re-worded a few things or corrected some typos). However, there is nothing with those changes that affect the meaning of the story. _

**Alive**

**Flashback**

**Remote Island, Atlantic Ocean  
May 30, 2001  
0830 Local**

Malcolm enjoyed his twice-daily walks along the beach, where the only sounds were the ocean waves and the call of seagulls. It was a perfect way to begin and end each day. On his rare visits to the mainland, old acquaintances often asked him if the solitude bothered him.

His response was always the same. "No. It's what I've chosen."

After Vietnam, he went on to finish college and held a successful job. He was fortunate in some was not to have suffered as much as some of his comrades. Many of them still carried the scars of that war. But he'd never felt entirely comfortable. Here on the island, "his" island, he had found peace.

Now his solitary life had been disrupted. It wasn't the first time he'd found strangers on the beach. Sometimes adventurers would invade his space. But how this man came to the island was unusual. The naval aviator wasn't here by choice. But somehow, fate or the gods had put him in this place. Had the commander not washed ashore on the remote island, Malcolm was convinced the man wouldn't be alive.

It was touch and go for a few days as the man drifted in and out of consciousness. Malcolm relied heavily on his training as an Army medic. Living alone, he made sure to have an ample amount of first-aid supplies. Dealing with the hypothermia had been the hardest thing. Warm IV solutions would have been ideal, but he'd managed by removing the wet clothing and using blankets and warm compresses.

The man swallowed quite a bit of seawater and had numerous cuts and bruises—including marks around his neck, which were made by shroud lines. His left knee was swollen and bruised, but there were no broken bones. The first two days he was awake only long enough to drink some water. By the third day, he stayed awake long enough to eat some broth. He spoke only a few words and then only if spoken to. On day five, he seemed much stronger.

He was awake sitting outside the hut when Malcolm returned from his walk. The man acknowledged him as he approached.

"It looks like your back among the living."

"Yeah. Where am I?"

"You're on a remote island in the Atlantic. Do you remember what happened?"

"Not really."

This wasn't good. Malcolm already knew his name and the fact he was a commander in the US Navy from the patch on his flight suit.

Still, he asked. "What is your name?"

The younger man looked perplexed. "I… I don't know."

**North of Union Station  
June 11, 2001  
2030 Local**

Mac knew she should go back to her apartment, but she was reluctant to leave Harm's place. Whether it was a dream or a vision, the image of Harm walking along a seashore was the first she'd had since seeing his empty life raft the night of the accident. For the first time in almost three weeks, she had hope.

She had tried countless times to connect to him both at work and home. She'd even visited the wall one evening to visit with his father. She believed Harm Sr. was looking out for his son, recalling the day they went flying not long after she came to JAG headquarters when Harm told her about "Sarah."

_My grandfather earned his Navy wings in a Stearman like Sarah. My dad and I were gonna restore her. But he was shot down in Nam._

_So, you and your grandfather restored her? _

_No, my grandfather was killed flying off the Hornet in '42. My grandmother kept it tarped on the farm. After my crash, I spent a lot of time up there. At first, I didn't want to take it off. But when I did, restoring her became everything. It was like Dad was with me again._

_With the way that clearing appeared out of nowhere, I think he still is._

But she hadn't been able to connect with Harm. Not at her apartment, not at the wall, not even in Harm's office. Guess she couldn't call it Harm's office anymore. By the end of the day, Lt. Commander Hughes had moved things in. Mac wanted to slap the smug son of a bitch.

But now, at Harm's home, with all his personal belongings still around, she felt close to him. Maybe she'd stay here tonight. After all, she had a seabag in the car.

She started toward the door when she the sound of a key in the lock. Who could it be? She held her breath as the door opened to reveal Trish Burnett.

Trish gasped as she saw Mac.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Burnett. I have no right to be here. Harm had given me a key and I—

"Darling, there's no need to apologize. I know how much you mean to my son."

"It's just that I feel closer to him here and I…" Mac paused. How much should she tell this woman? She barely knew Trish Burnett. Certainly not well enough to confess she'd had a vision of Harm being alive.

"He's not dead. I don't know how I know, but I believe it. That's why I wouldn't allow them to call the chapel service a memorial. My son is alive, and I'm not going to give up hope."

Mac looked at the older woman. She'd been through a lot in her life. Her first husband being shot down in Vietnam, not knowing his fate, her only son having a ramp strike that could have killed him. Years later, learning Harm Sr. survived his crash and lived in Russia for several years. The news that he'd fathered another son. Trish Burnett was a strong woman who had endured much in her life. The idea of Harm being alive wasn't the wishful thinking of a fanatical woman. Mac could confide in her.

"I believe it too. Mrs. Burnett, I want to tell you something. I don't let everyone know for fear they'll believe I'm crazy."

"Please, darling. Mrs. Burnett is too formal. Please call me Trish. And let's sit down." She nodded toward the sofa.

After they were seated, Trish said. "Please continue."

"In the past, I've had visions. The first time was when my little sister Chloe…" Mac told Trish the story of the time Chloe was missing and how she had seen her in the woods. "I hope you don't think I'm crazy."

"Of course not. There are inexplicable forces at work that none of us can explain. I gather the incident with your sister wasn't the only time."

Mac shook her head. "The night Harm's plane went down, I saw his life raft. I was able to pinpoint the location, and the rescue team did find it. I've tried hard to find him since then. When I came here tonight, I lay down on his bed. I must have fallen asleep, but I'm convinced what I saw wasn't a dream. He was walking along a beach. There was a rocky cove nearby. I didn't see his face, but I have no doubt it was him."

Trish nodded. "I see."

"The thing is a few days earlier I saw something similar. A sandy beach, a rocky crevice. Someone was lying in a bed. I had opened a file for a case Harm had been handling. When I saw his handwriting, I…" Mac's voice broke, and Trish reached to take her hand.

"Go on, darling."

"I had just read some of his notes when I had the vision. Right after that, I had to go to a staff meeting." Mac shook her head. "You probably do think I'm crazy."

"I don't think you're crazy at all. My son is alive."

"Yeah, I believe he is too."

Trish smiled. "What are we going to do about it


	8. Voices

_A/N: Yes, Harm is alive. (You seriously didn't think I could kill him, did you?) If you didn't read the updates to the previous chapter, I changed a couple of things. (See authors note for "Alive.") Also, I don't believe the show gave us the date of Harm's ramp strike. In the episode "Yeah, Baby," Mac said he spent three years in law school and four years at JAG. That would have him starting Georgetown in 1992, so I'm estimating the crash happened sometime in 1991. _

**Voices**

**Remote Island, Atlantic Ocean  
June 12, 2001  
0530 Local**

_It's pizza night and my stomach's growling. What do you say we trap this time? _

_I don't know, Mace. I kind of like going around in the moonlight._

_What moonlight? It's blacker than the inside of a coal miner's nose out here._

_Tomcat 173. You're at a mile and a quarter. Call the Ball._

_One-seven-three Tomcat. Clara, 3.6._

_Bend left, Harm._

_One-seven-three Tomcat. Ball, 3.5._

_Below the glide path, Harm._

_I'm on the glide path._

_You're a little low. You're a little low! _

_Power! Power! Power!_

He awoke with a start, then sat up in the makeshift bed, his body drenched in sweat. Taking a few deep breaths, he willed himself to calm down.

The dream began three nights ago and recurred nightly. It was the same each time. If only he could get past the part where someone yelled, "Power."

Tomcats. Glide paths. Traps. Calling the ball. The lingo sounded familiar. Why? What happened, and why did he keep having this nightmare?

Trying to sleep was useless now, so he got out of bed, pulled on some clothes, then went outside. Might as well take a walk on the beach. He sat in the sand, far away from the water's edge, then tried to recall anything that might be related to the dream.

_Think. The person in the back seat called you Harm. Malcolm calls you that. _

Somewhere, from the recesses of his mind, a memory surfaced. _You were a pilot._

He watched as the first rays of sun peek over the horizon, the rose to walk farther down the beach.

_Eject! Eject! Eject!_

He stopped dead in his tracks.

_The canopy opened. You ejected. Flames were everywhere. _

"Oh, God, no."

A wave of nausea washed over him.

He had crashed a Tomcat on the deck of an aircraft carrier.

And in the process killed a man.

**June 12, 2001  
0700 Local**

Malcolm hated to admit there were times when living on an isolated island had its disadvantages. He had no means of contacting anyone, something his friend Sam had repeatedly reminded him of.

"You should invest in some type of communication device," Sam had said during his last visit to the island. "If you became ill or had an accident, you have no way of getting help. You could die, and no one would know for weeks or months."

He had shrugged it off. "Then I would die a happy man."

That was before he found a half-drowned Navy Commander on the beach. He had brought the younger man to his hut and did his best to nurse him back to health with the limited resources he had.

Of course, he'd expected the Navy to launch a search and rescue effort. But almost three weeks had passed with no sign of anyone. The commander didn't express any desire to get off the island. Maybe it was because of his memory loss that he felt comfortable here.

During the first few days after arriving, "Harm" muttered something about a storm, a malfunctioning plane, and the water being cold. He kept calling for someone named Mac.

Malcolm wasn't sure who that person was but figured it was a relative or close friend. And the night before he found Harm washed up on the beach, there had been a massive storm, the likes of which he hadn't seen in years.

At one point during those first few days, Malcolm asked his name, and he replied, "Harm."

That, at least, was a good sign. But on day five, when he regained consciousness, he seemed to have lost all his memory. He didn't know his name or remember anything about how he had come to be on the island. Friends, family, career—everything seemed lost.

Malcolm didn't know how to deal with people with amnesia, so he didn't tell him anything other than his name and hoped he would remember on his own.

_Should I tell him the truth?_

_What truth? The only thing you know is his name, and he's a commander in the US Navy. You only assume he had some kind of accident and had to eject from a plane._

_You could tell him he's in the Navy._

He looked up when Harm entered the hut. His face was pale.

"You had the nightmare again?"

"Yeah, it woke me up again. Couldn't go back to sleep, so I went for a walk on the beach. I wish it had only been a nightmare. I thought if I concentrated hard enough, I might remember something."

"From the look on your face, you did remember."

"I'm an aviator in the US Navy. I fly Tomcats. I was returning from a mission, something went wrong with my vision, and I crashed an F-14 on the deck of an aircraft carrier. Mace, my RIO, punched us out early.

"So, you ended up in the ocean. Didn't the Navy conduct a search and rescue? You couldn't have landed far from the carrier. Why couldn't they find you?"

"I didn't come down in the ocean. I landed on the deck. Mace didn't make it."

"When did this happen?"

"May 1991. Just before I came here."

"Something doesn't add up. I found you on the beach, half-drowned, and in stages of hypothermia. Tell me what you do remember. Then, I'll tell you what I know."

**June 12, 2001  
1930 Local**

Harm decided to take another long walk along the beach later that evening. He thought he was close to regaining his memory this morning, but after the talk with Malcolm, it was clear he had a long way to go.

After breakfast, the older man said he was going to the other side of the island to fish and wouldn't be back until late, leaving Harm alone with his thoughts.

He'd been here almost three weeks, and no one was searching for him. And how had he ended in this place? The last thing he remembered was ejecting from the Tomcat before waking up on the island.

Okay, it didn't make sense. Harm was positive he'd come down on the deck of the carrier, not in the water. He knew Mace didn't make it, and that the crash happened in 1991. He held the rank of Lieutenant. Other than that, he couldn't recall anything else about the accident.

According to Malcolm, this was 2001. He was still in the Navy, still flying, and was a full commander. How could he have forgotten ten years of his life? Was there anyone special in his life? Was he married? Have children?

Harm shook his head. If any of that were true, he felt sure he'd remember.

_You and me. Have a baby together?_

That voice. So familiar, yet so distant.

He ventured close to the rocks.

_Water's cold out there._

A sudden chill enveloped him, even though the evening air was warm.

_Water. I was surrounded by water. The waves were overpowering. I couldn't get to the life raft._

He shook his head. He hadn't ejected into the ocean_. _

_Harm, I'm not a strong swimmer._

As soon as the memory surfaced, it faded. The tide was coming in, and the waves began to crash upon the rocky crevice.

A different woman's voice. This person was a mere acquaintance, maybe even a friend, but not a close one. The first woman he had a close connection with. Of that, he was sure.

He walked a little further when he heard the first voice again.

_"Harm? Where are you, flyboy. I know you're alive. Please come back to me."_


	9. Connecting

_A/N: A bit of housekeeping in this chapter. Had to get rid of the Video Princess. Does Lt. Col. Hughes remind you a bit of Vicpuke? (I know, get the bleach.) Anyway… Harm and Mac have always had a connection._

**Connecting**

**JAG Headquarters  
June 12, 2001  
1130 Local**

Col. Sarah Mackenzie stormed across the bullpen, her heels clicking on the tile flooring. She entered her office, then slammed the door behind her.

Harm had pulled some sneaky things in the courtroom, but never anything like Lt. Cdr. Hughes did today. Even Lauren Singer's tactics were mild compared to what this man did. Mac was convinced he would do anything to win.

The sad thing was, Mac had fallen for it. Hook, line, and sinker. And when he pulled the virtual rabbit from the hat, she had been taken totally by surprise. The members could see it in her face. Her ill-preparedness could ultimately be responsible for letting a guilty man go free. But it was hard to concentrate on her job when her mind was always on Harm.

_Maybe I should ask for a few days leave._

Mac looked up when someone knocked. Before she had a chance to say anything, the door opened. None other than the object of her wrath walked in.

"Colonel? No hard feelings, I hope. I was just doing my job." Lt. Cdr. Hughes flashed a smile.

"Do you not know what a CLOSED door means?"

"Woah, woah, woah. Take a chill pill. I just came to apologize. Why don't I buy you lunch?"

"Get out! Now! Don't ever tell me what to do! And NEVER come into this office again without my permission. Is. That Clear?"

"Crystal." Hughes turned and left.

_Commander Rabb. You sandbagged me with that ricocheting bullets line._

_Mac, I'm just doing my job. Come on. I'll buy you lunch._

Despite her anger with Hughes, Mac smiled at the memory. She'd been furious with Harm that day, but nothing like with Hughes now. Harm wanted to get to the truth. Mac had the impression Hughes was out to win and would stop at nothing to achieve his goal. Ethics be damned.

"Oh, Harm. I miss you so much. Please come back."

**North of Union Station  
June 12, 2001  
1800 Local**

Mac entered Harm's apartment, took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled. After her visit with Trish the evening before, both women decided it would be best for her to stay here at night. They felt it was important for Mac to be in a place where she felt the closest connection to Harm. Their hope was she would be able to use her "gift" to locate him.

At one time, she would have also spent some time Harm's office after hours. But that changed with the arrival of Lt. Cdr. Sleaze. Mac still fumed about the stunt he pulled in court today. The man was a disgrace to his uniform and the United States Navy.

How he made it through OCS was a mystery. And she didn't know how she was going to "partner" with him. Maybe she would ask for a transfer out of headquarters. Now that she was no longer engaged, and with her best friend and partner gone, there was nothing to keep her in DC.

_What am I thinking? Harm is alive. I feel it. I know it—and he is coming back._

Inside the apartment, she walked up the steps to the bedroom, then hung her uniform in the closet. Harm's dress whites, mess dress, and service blues still hung there, just as he had left them when he went TAD to the Patrick Henry.

_You know what they say about dress whites and gold wings?_

_Highly overrated._

No, they weren't. At least not when worn by a 6'4" Naval Commander with eyes as blue as the sea and a smile that could make her heart flutter. How could she have been so stupid as to allow Mic to take over her life? She could never feel for him what she felt for Harm.

And if he was alive, she was going to damn sure make certain he knew how she felt. Even if he didn't return the feelings, she wasn't going through life under the pretense of loving another man.

Mac straightened her uniform on the hanger, then took her seabag into the bathroom. A quick shower would refresh and revitalize her, then she'd call in an order for Chinese or something. Cooking wasn't her favorite thing anyway, and she didn't want to spend a lot of time in the kitchen. The longer she could devote to "connecting" with her flyboy, the better chances of finding him.

Twenty minutes later, she dressed in a pair of faded jeans and a Naval Academy tee shirt she once confiscated from Harm. She walked to the kitchen, then picked up the phone to call for takeout when she heard a key turn in the door.

Trish had a key, but she had left early this morning for San Diego. Before Mac had time to react, the door swung opened and none other than the Video Princess walked into the apartment. A tall man with dark hair and bushy eyebrows followed her. He looked like a spineless wimp.

"I'll only be a few minutes, Cyrus."

"Take as long as you need, dear."

Renee started toward the bedroom when she saw Mac standing in the kitchen. "Mac! How did you get in?"

"With the spare key Harm gave me years ago. He also has one to my apartment."

"_Had_ one, you mean. What are you doing here?"

"I should be asking you the same thing."

"I doubt Mrs. Burnett would be pleased to know you're hanging around his apartment."

"_Trish_ knows I'm here and supports my reasons."

Renee cocked an already high-arched brow. "Oh? What might that be? And just when did you get to be on a first-name basis with Harm's mother?"

Mac decided to go for the jugular. She'd never cared for the bitch director from hell. After the escapade she pulled at the prayer vigil… "I gather you aren't since you keep referring to her as Mrs. Burnett."

Renee winced, but Mac didn't give her a chance to respond. "Since I have Trish's permission to be here, I'll ask you again what _you're _doing in Harm's apartment."

"I came to pick up the few items I left."

"And you needed a bodyguard?" Mac doubted the man could scare away a fly, but she couldn't resist another dig at Renee.

"Where _are_ my manners? Meet my fiancé, Cyrus Courtney."

It was Mac's turn to act surprised. "Fiancé? You certainly didn't waste any time finding another man."

"For your information, Cyrus and I go back a long way. We were high-school sweethearts and lost touch when he went to mortuary school. I went back home for the funeral of a family friend, and we reconnected. Just like we'd never been apart."

So, the man was a mortician. That explained why he acted like a milquetoast. "Then I guess congratulations are in order. How long will it take you to get your things and get out of here?"

"You have no right—"

"I could call Harm's mother."

"Oh, all right. The less I have to see of you, the better." Renee went to the bedroom, started yanking on drawers and opening closets. In a few minutes, she came back with a small travel bag. "Cyrus, be an angel and take these to the car. I need to check one more thing, and then I'll be down."

"Yes, Dear." He took the bag, then left.

Mac rolled her eyes. Spineless wimp was right.

Renee watched him leave, then turned to Mac. "Since I guess this is the last time we'll see one another, I wanted to wish you well on your upcoming marriage. Have you and Mic set another date?"

"Let's cut the pleasantries, Renee. You don't like me, and I don't like you. No need for any pretense. It's been a long three weeks. Let's leave it at that."

Renee opened her mouth to say something, then closed it. She nodded, then turned for the door.

"Oh, Renee?"

"Yes?"

"Leave the key. You won't need it anymore."

Her face grew red, but she removed the key from her purse, threw it on the table, then stormed out the door.

**North of Union Station  
1930 Local**

After the encounter with Renee, Mac lost her appetite. Instead, she made a cup of tea, then dimmed the lights in the apartment, and went into the bedroom.

Finally, some alone time. Mac sat on the bed, then took a sip of tea. The night Chloe went missing, she'd been asleep when she saw the vision of her in the woods. But when she "found" Harm's life raft, she'd been fully awake.

With Chloe's help, she had been able to concentrate and focus totally on Harm. Could she do it now? She closed her eyes. In last night's dream, she saw him walking along a beach. Maybe if she called out to him.

"Harm? Where are you, flyboy? I know you're alive. Please come back to me."

Nothing. But Mac knew she needed to keep trying.

"I'm trying to reach you. Come home, Harm. I promise if you do, things will be different between us. I… I love you, Harm."

_A beach. A rocky cove. An island in the Atlantic._

"Harm, are you there?"

_Mac?_

She opened her eyes and looked around. No one else was in the apartment, but she'd heard Harm's voice as plain as if he'd been in the room with her.

_He is alive!_


	10. Located

_A/N: Just a short update. My muse has been most uncooperative lately, but I promise someone will soon rescue Harm._

**Located**

**Remote Island, Atlantic Ocean  
June 12, 2001  
2000 Local**

_Harm, are you there?_

"Mac!"

Memories flooded his mind like a tidal wave. Everything he had lost was now clear. His name. His rank. The year. His ramp strike. The fact that he was not only a Naval Aviator but also a JAG lawyer.

And Mac.

His partner. The marine officer who had stood by him through thick and thin and defended him in a murder trial.

His best friend. The one who accompanied him to Russia on an ill-fated mission to find his long-lost father.

His… The woman he loved.

"And this time, I'm going to tell you how I feel, Ninja Girl."

But Mac was engaged to marry someone else. His crash happened the night of her rehearsal dinner, with the ceremony scheduled for the next day. When he and Skates ejected over the Atlantic, he was on his way back for the wedding. Or rather, with the hopes of stopping the wedding.

Almost three weeks had passed since his crash. Mac would be married by now. He felt like someone had punched him in the gut. Maybe it would have been best if he hadn't remembered. Or even better if he had drowned in the ocean.

Now he would have to face life with knowing Mac was married to someone else. How was he supposed to work with her?

_And how long do you think Bugme will allow her to work at JAG? _

Brumby and Brumby. Mic told Bud it was because he did the work of two people. Like hell. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what he had in mind.

_I want us to remain close._

_You know, your husband might have something to say about that._

If Mic had his way, it would only be a matter of time before Mac left JAG and the Marine Corps.

_I love you, Harm._

Mac's voice again. How could she say she loved him when she belonged to someone else? There could be only one explanation. The voice was a cruel figment of his imagination.

**On the Road to Falls Church  
2000 Local**

Harm was alive. He was somewhere on an island in the Atlantic. Mac was sure of it. She hurriedly dressed in her uniform, then rushed to her car. Once she was on the road to Falls Church, she dialed the number for headquarters. Admiral Chegwidden often worked late. Maybe she could still catch him before he left. Tiner answered. "JAG Headquarters, Petty—"

"Tiner, this is Col Mackenzie. Is the admiral still in?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Put me through, please. It's urgent." She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel while waiting for the admiral to come on the line.

"What's going on, Colonel? Tiner said your call was urgent."

"Admiral, Sir, I have news about Harm."

There was a pause before Chegwidden spoke. His voice was low. "I'm sorry, Mac. Where did they locate his body?"

"Sir, Harm is alive. He's on a remote island in the Atlantic."

"An island? Which one? And how did you come by this information?"

"I saw him, Sir."

A J sighed. "Mac, please. I know you've had success with this before, but don't you think it's time to stop torturing yourself this way? We all cared for Harm, you probably more than anyone, but sooner or later, you've got to come to terms with the fact he's not coming back."

"Admiral, please. I'm not in denial. I know what I saw. I'm on my way into headquarters. Will you give me the benefit of the doubt once more? If I'm wrong, which I'm not, I'll never mention my 'gift' or curse or whatever you want to call it again."

"You're sure about this?"

"As sure as I was when I spotted his life raft."

"Okay, Colonel. I'll be waiting."

"Sir, is Bud still there?"

"I believe so, why?"

"Have him standing by and tell him to get the charts for the western Atlantic. I should be there in twenty minutes."


	11. Surprise Ally

_A/N: Didn't plan this, but the muse took over my writing today._

**Surprise Ally**

**JAG Headquarters  
June 13, 2001  
0700 Local**

Admiral A J Chegwidden rubbed the top of his head and stared at the phone on his desk. He _needed _to make the call, but he dreaded it. Captain Ingles had agreed to look in the area Mac identified the night of Harm's crash, but to suggest they send a search team to a remote, uninhabited island was a bit far-fetched. Not only that, but Mac also wanted to catch the morning COD to the Henry and participate in the search.

Nothing, short of ordering her to back off her theory, would appease her. As her commanding officer, he had every right to do that, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. The entire office had suffered because of Harm's disappearance, but no one as much as Mac. While others had resigned themselves to the fact he was dead, Mac hadn't.

He'd been surprised to receive her phone call the evening before. Had it not been for Mac's "history" of finding people, he wouldn't have stayed to listen, let alone have Lt. Roberts stay over. The three of them had worked until almost midnight, pouring over maps and charts before Mac finally pointed out a small island a couple of hundred miles offshore.

When Bud pointed out the chances of Harm surviving three weeks alone and possibly injured on an uninhabited island were slim, it had almost been Mac's undoing.

"You don't know what you're talking about. Harm is alive! I know it. He… he spoke to me. I heard him call my name."

Bud believed in extra-terrestrials and was into science fiction, but not ghosts. He'd opened his mouth to speak when A J headed him off. "Lt. Roberts. Why don't you go home to your family? You have court in the morning. Ask Judge Morris for a continuance. Explain to him Col. Mackenzie had a family emergency and won't be in."

"Aye, aye, Sir."

After Bud left, Mac spoke. "Does this mean I'm going to the Henry?"

"It means I'll call Captain Ingles first thing in the morning with your theory. But it's his call whether or not to send a surveillance chopper into that area.

"But, Sir—"

"That's all I can promise, Colonel. Now go home and get some sleep. That's an order."

A J reached for the phone when the intercom buzzed. "What is it, Tiner?"

"Clayton Webb to see you, Sir."

"What does he want?"

"Didn't say, Sir. Just that it was important."

"Okay, send him in."

Clayton Webb strolled into the room wearing a three-peace suit. A J wondered if Webb had any casual clothes in his wardrobe.

"What brings you here, Webb? I hope you're not looking for help with one of your missions. I'm already down one senior officer, and my Chief of Staff isn't in any shape to assist."

"That's why I'm here. Not for a mission. I got a call from Mac at three a.m. She's convinced Harm is alive and on a deserted island in the Atlantic."

"Tell me something I don't know. I'm not sure how to break the news that she's probably wrong."

"But they did find the wreckage and evidence Harm ejected from the plane."

"That's true, but after this long, the chances of survival are slim even if he did make it to a deserted island."

"And what if I told you the island Mac identified isn't deserted?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Clay point to a spot on the map that was still spread across A J's desk. "This island here is occupied by a lone individual. He's a former Army medic who lives off the grid."

"How would you know about it?"

"Classified."

"If by some slim chance Harm is alive and being held prisoner by some half-crazed loner and you have information—"

"Hold it, A J. I didn't say the man was crazy. A bit eccentric, but Malcolm's okay."

"Then why hasn't he reported Harm being alive?" A J shook his head. Mac's visions were getting to him. Inwardly, he hoped against hope she was right, but reason told him otherwise.

"I told you, he lives off the grid. Has no way of contacting anyone. A friend flies there three or four times a year to bring him ashore for supplies."

"Ingles is never going to go for this. The chance of the Navy launching a second search and rescue mission is next to nothing."

Webb smirked. "Don't need him. I do have connections."

A J stood. "Then let's get on with it."


	12. Found

_A/N: Are you ready for a Harm and Mac reunion? Me too! It's been far too long in coming. Sorry if the courtroom scene is unrealistic. I'm not a legal expert. At any rate, this is fan fiction. _

**Found**

**Remote Island, Atlantic Ocean  
June 13, 2001  
0830 Local**

Rain pelted the small hut and dripped through a couple of holes in the roof, one of them close to the bed where Harm had slept. He paced the floor, pausing long enough to look out a small window as if by doing so, he could will the sun to shine.

Now that he had regained his memory, he was anxious to get off this island. Ready to return to the "real" world, even if it meant a life without Mac. As much as he'd like to run away from it all, he couldn't hide out here forever. He had family and friends who would want to know he was alive.

Harm thought of his mother and wondered what she had been going through the past few weeks. The uncertainty of not knowing if he was alive or dead. Not having a way to bring closure. Was it like reliving the time his father went missing in Nam? She must be going through hell.

Malcolm sat at the makeshift table as if oblivious to the weather. He did put a couple of pails on the floor to catch the water, but that was all.

"How can you stand it here?"

"A little restless aren't you, Commander?"

"_A little?_ More like a lot. I've got to find a way to get home. Don't you have any way of communicating with someone?"

The older man shook his head. Only when Sam comes in his plane."

"When will that be?"

"He was here the middle part of May, so not for a couple of months."

"Couple of months! I can't wait that long." Harm started pacing again.

"Afraid you don't have a choice. Not much traffic in this area. Planes don't even fly this route often. Unless…" Malcolm furrowed his brow.

"Unless what?"

"Nothing you need to know. And it's not likely anyway. For what it's worth, Commander, I wish I had a way to let someone know you're here. I would have done it the first night you arrived."

**JAG Headquarters  
0900 Local**

Lt. Bud Roberts stood as Admiral Morris entered the courtroom, then looked toward the prosecution's table.

"Please be seated." Morris looked in Bud's direction. "Lt. Roberts? I see your lead counsel is not in the courtroom today. Are you ready to proceed alone?"

"Your Honor, Lt. Colonel Mackenzie had a family emergency. I would like to ask the court for a continuance until she can return. Her absence could not be avoided." Bud felt a little guilty using the term family. But wasn't JAG, at lease those who had been around a while, _like_ family?

"How long do you anticipate her being away?"

"No more than two days, Sir."

"Very well, Lt. Roberts. The Colonel is always punctual and has an outstanding attendance record. I'm inclined to grant such a continuance." He looked toward the defense table. "Does the defense have any objections."

Lt. Commander Rick Hughes stood, then looked at Bud with a smug grin on his face before turning toward the bench. "Yes, Your Honor, we do. The defense believes this is only a stalling tactic by the prosecution to prevent justice from being served and keeping an innocent man from going free. It is our understanding the Colonel has recently broken off her engagement, is estranged from her mother, and has only living relative who is currently incar—"

"Objection! Colonel Mackenzie's personal life and the whereabouts of her relative is irrelevant."

"Sustained!" Morris glared at Hughes. "Approach the bench!"

The two attorneys stepped forward. It was apparent to Bud that Morris was not happy with Hughes.

"What is the meaning of this counselor?"

"You asked if I had objections to a continuance. I was merely stating my reasons."

"By discussing a fellow officer's personal life in front of the members of this court? I don't like such tactics, and I won't allow it in my courtroom. Is. That. Clear?"

"Yes, Sir," Hughes said, then returned to the defense table.

"Then, be seated." Morris waited for Bud to take his seat, then said, "The prosecution's request for a continuance is granted. Court will resume at 0900 on Monday. Dismissed.

Bud breathed a sigh of relief, then left the courtroom to return to his office.

**Somewhere Over the Atlantic  
1100 Local**

Mac looked out the window of the chopper, trying to calm the butterflies in her stomach. She had to hand it to Clay. He'd come through without involving the Navy. Mac doubted Captain Ingles would launch another search and rescue mission because of one of her "visions."

Chegwidden had concurred, although he had promised to contact the skipper. Webb phoned her at 0730 from the admiral's office to inform her a chopper would be waiting for them at Langley to take them to the island. "I'll be at your place in half an hour to pick you up. Wear comfortable clothes. Might be some rough terrain."

She hurriedly dressed in jeans and a short-sleeved shirt, then waited for Clay to arrive, who was on time. Mac had to smile. If it had been Harm…

Then they waited at Langley for almost two hours for the weather to clear before they could take off. Mac wasn't the most patient person in the world, and since today's "mission" had to do with the possibility of locating Harm, she was especially antsy.

She had waited in a small conference room beside Webb's office, pacing the floor and cursing the bad weather.

When Clay finally opened the door and said, "Let's go," she was out of the building before him.

Now, she tried to be patient as the chopper made its way east over the Atlantic.

"Anxious, aren't you," Clay said from the seat beside her.

Why was it the spook seemed to have a permanent smirk on his face? "I'm fine, Webb."

"Sure you are. How long have you been in love with him?"

"What?"

"I asked how long you've loved Harm. It isn't hard to see."

"Harm is my partner. My best friend. If he's still alive, and I believe he is, I need to find him. To bring him home." There was that smirk again. But Mac couldn't help but wonder if Clay could sense there was something more to her relationship with Harm, could others also see it?

Had Mic seen it? Was that the reason he pushed her into a relationship? Guilted her into moving the ring? Insisted upon a fancy wedding instead of the kind she wanted? Did he want to show off to the world, or more importantly, gloat in front of Harm?

And why in the hell had she allowed him to manipulate her? What happened to Mac, the Marine? When had she turned into Sarah, Mic's puppet?

Anger welled within her. Mic had pushed, pulled, and cajoled every step of the way. He made her feel guilty when things didn't go his way.

The first time was the outing at Larry Kaliski's place. Mic knew she would be uncomfortable, but he made her feel like it was her duty to accompany him.

_Wait a minute. This day was about me. Four hours when I didn't have to pursue you or excuse myself while you spoke to your colleagues. Or take care of your dog. _

_I apologized for that._

_That's how you see me. A moon-faced admirer who massages your ego and helps you forget your past._

_That is not true. _

_Look, I work for this man now. This is a bloody good opportunity, and I'm not going to jeopardize it because of something that happened to you before I was in your life._

_Mic, you are wrong about—_

_Sarah, leave it. Get in the car._

And she obeyed. Every step of the way. God forgive her for thinking this, but Harm's crash saved her from a lifetime of misery. Mic would have slowly choked the life from her.

But would life be worth living without Harm? He _had_ to be alive.

"How much longer?" she asked Clay.

"We'll be on the island in about five minutes. The pilot will have to land further from the hut than usual because of the rain."

"Wait a minute. You've been here before? When? Why?"

"Told you its classified. But relax. If Harm is there, he's in good hands."

"So the island is inhabited. Who lives there?"

"You'll know soon enough." Clay motioned toward the window.

Mac turned to look. Below she could see a rocky cove, a sandy beach._ Just like in the vision I had._

The chopper flew past the beach and further inland. After circling once, the pilot brought it down in a grassy area.

Clay opened the door, got out, then hurried around to help Mac. "This way," he said, nodding toward the beach.

Mac willed the butterflies in her stomach to stop niggling. _This is it. I'll know soon._

**Remote Island, Atlantic Ocean  
1230 Local**

The sound of rotor blades caused Harm to stir on the makeshift bed. He hadn't intended to fall asleep, but he was weary after staying up most of the night trying to figure out a way off the island.

_So now I'm dreaming about a possible rescue?_

But as he drifted to the edge of sleep, he knew it wasn't a dream. He jumped up, slipped into some shoes, and hurried outside to where Malcolm already was.

"Helo?"

"Yeah," the older man said. "It's landing, too. It looks like you're in luck, Commander." He motioned for Harm to follow, and they started along a path that led to a grassy knoll above the hut.

They hadn't gone far when Harm saw the chopper. A man and a woman got out, then started walking in their direction. He would recognize the man anywhere.

Clayton Webb. The spook seemed to have his hands in everything. Then Harm laid eyes on the woman. Tall, willowy, with short, dark hair. She looked in his direction. When their eyes met, she started running toward him.

Mac.

She had come for him.


	13. Reunion

_A/N: I love reunions, don't you? I decided to make Clay a nice guy in this story. I liked the character up until season nine. But then everything in that season went south_

**Reunion**

**Remote Island, Atlantic Ocean  
June 13, 2001  
1240 Local**

Mac blinked her eyes as she and Clay approached the two men. One was older, about six-feet tall. But the other one… Was she seeing things? Was it him? When he smiled, she knew.

They spoke in unison.

"Harm, it's really you."

"Mac, you came for me."

"Yes." At that moment, she didn't care who was around. The SECNAV himself couldn't stop her. She rushed to Harm and wrapped her arms around him. He returned the embrace.

Tears flowed down Mac's face. "Everyone thought you were dead. They told me I need to face the facts and get on with my life. I didn't believe them. Somehow, I knew you were alive. Harm, I've never been more scared in all my life when I heard your plane went down. I thought I'd lost you forever."

Harm kissed the top of Mac's head. "It's okay, Mac. I'm here, and I'm alive."

They remained in one another's arms for two minutes twenty-two seconds by Mac's calculation before Clayton Webb cleared his throat. "This has been a touching little reunion, but there are others who want to know you're alive, Rabb."

Harm looked at the spook. "Webb. What are you doing here?"

"Let's just saw your _partner_ is very persuasive. Once she gets something in her head, she's not likely to change her mind. No matter how unbelievable it may be."

"There's a story here somewhere," Harm said.

"I'll tell you about it later. Webb's right. Others will want to know. Most of all, your mother."

"You've talked to Mom?"

"Several times. She's the only one besides me who believed you were still alive."

Webb pulled a phone from his pocket, then handed it to Mac. "I think you'd better call Chegwidden first."

Mac dialed the number, then asked Tiner to put the call through. The Admiral came on the line almost immediately. "Any news, Colonel?"

"He's here, sir. He's alive."

She heard the audible sigh of relief. "Thank God. What's his condition?"

"He seems fine, but I'll let him answer that." She handed the phone to Harm.

"Admiral?... It's a long story… Yes sir, I'm okay… No, I don't think that's necessary… Yes, sir… Understood sir… Yes, Webb is here. I'll put him on."

While Clay spoke to the admiral, Harm turned to Malcolm. "Mac, this is Malcolm Stewart. You might say he saved my life. Malcolm, this is my partner at JAG, Lt. Col Sarah Mackenzie."

"Most people call me Mac." She smiled and shook the older man's hand while trying to decipher the look in his eye.

He smiled. "So, you're Mac. Call me Malcolm. As for saving his life, I think I had a little help with that. The commander is strong-willed."

"That he is."

"Admiral Chegwidden thinks I should get checked out at Bethesda as a precaution. That's what he's discussing with Webb."

Mac agreed. "Probably a good idea. On the ride home, you can tell me all about your little adventure."

"Sure. So, I guess congratulations are in order. Does Brumby know you're here."

Mac looked away at the mention of the Aussie's name. "No."

"Keeping secrets already, Marine? Hey, sorry I missed the wedding."

"You didn't."

"What?"

"There was no wedding."

"What?"

"Not now, Harm. I'll tell you about it later."

**North of Union Station  
1930 Local**

Harm looked around his apartment. It felt good to be home. There was a time when he thought he'd never see the place again. After three weeks, he wasn't sure what to expect. Dust. A windowsill filled with dead herbs. But the entire apartment was clean, and the plants seemed to have thrived in his absence.

It had been a long day. He'd spent several hours at Bethesda where he'd been given a clean bill of health. "CT is normal. Labs are good. You've lost a few pounds since your last visit," the doctor had said. "But given what you've been through, that's not unexpected. It will take a while to get back to full strength. Take it easy at first, but there's no reason why you can't return to active duty on Monday."

Mac stayed with him the entire time. When the doctor said he was free to go, Mac drove him home, stopping first for Chinese takeout. After they arrived at his apartment, it had been a whirlwind of activity—calls from his mother, people at JAG, having to tell the story of his time on the island. Not surprising, Bud and Harriet stopped by after work as did the Admiral. Everyone else sent their best wishes, including Lt. Singer.

Before he left, the admiral told Mac to take the rest of the week off. "Take good care of him, Colonel. I'll see you both in my office Monday morning. Commander, welcome home."

Harm sat on the sofa. Mac was tidying up the kitchen. Harm hated leaving it up to her, but she'd insisted. And he was weary from all the day's activities. He was a bit surprised that Renee hadn't called or been around. Maybe no one had called her. Not that he cared. No matter what happened between him and Mac, he was ready to end it with Renee. She was too high strung and too possessive. Funny, he hadn't given her a thought until now.

Mac walked into the room. "I put the leftovers in the fridge, but that's about all that's there. If you'd like, I can help you with buying groceries after we pick up your Lexus tomorrow."

"Thanks, Mac. So, did you water my plants while I was away?"

"Your mom did. Harm, she was the only one except me who believed you were still alive. I, uh, I stayed here a couple of nights. It's the place I felt closest to you, and I thought maybe somehow we could connect."

"You stayed here?"

"Yeah. Trish—your mom—knew about it and approved. Turns out I was right. Harm, I saw you walking along that beach. I saw the rocky cove. Last night I called the admiral to tell him. He, Bud, and I worked half the night looking at charts of the Western Atlantic."

"You saw me?"

Mac nodded.

"And you called out to me."

"How did you know?"

"Because I heard you. I called your name."

"I know. I also heard your voice. We connected. That's how I knew for sure you were still alive."

"Wow, Mac. I always knew— How did you locate the island?"

"The night of your crash, I saw your life raft. It was like the time I found Chloe. I pinpointed the location on the charts, and Admiral Chegwidden notified Captain Ingles. Unfortunately, you weren't nearby. Last night, after I heard your voice, I called Admiral Chegwidden. He, Bud, and I spent hours going over the maps before I pinpointed the location. The admiral sent me home to get some rest and promised he'd call Captain Ingles again, but we both knew the chances of them launching another search and rescue were slim. That's when I decided to call Clay. He knew exactly where the island was."

"Webb's full of surprises, that's for sure. It so happens Malcolm has done some work for the CIA. The government owns the island, and they let him live there in exchange for doing an occasional job."

"Strange way to live."

Harm shrugged. "A little inconvenient, to say the least, but the lifestyle suits him."

"Not something I would want, but whatever works, I guess."

"Mac, what happened? You're not wearing Brumby's ring. You said the wedding didn't take place. You said you would tell me."

She took a deep breath. "Mic couldn't get past this thing with us."

Harm lowered his voice. "Maybe it's because we can't get past it."

"He was upset when I wanted to postpone the ceremony. I told him I wouldn't go through with it until we got word about you. A few days ago, I had a bad day at work. The Admiral asked Harriet to take me home. Mic came, demanding to talk to me. He said some terrible things about you. About us. I threw the ring at him and told him to leave. I haven't seen him since."

"I'm sorry, Mac. It's my fault."

"No. Don't say that. If I hadn't wanted you to come to the ceremony, you probably wouldn't have been flying in that weather. It was selfish of me to ask."

"But to call off the engagement…"

"I realize now it wouldn't have worked between Mic and me. It's okay. Better to find out now than six months into the marriage."

"Are you going to be okay?"

"I'll be fine. Hey, did you talk to your mom?"

"Yeah. She and Frank are going to fly out next week. Told me if I ever pulled a stunt like that again, she would kick my six from here to San Diego and back."

"She's a strong woman. Handled herself well at the prayer vigil. Wouldn't allow anyone to call it a memorial service. And when Renee— I guess you're wondering why she hasn't been around."

"A bit curious, but it doesn't matter. The past couple of days, I've had time to do a lot of thinking. I have no future with Renee, but I don't want to talk about her right now." Harm tried to stifle a yawn.

"Hey, you're tired."

"It will feel good to sleep in my own bed."

"Guess I should get out of here and let you get some rest. I'll come back in the morning." Mac started to rise.

"Mac. You don't have to go. Stay with me tonight."


	14. Midnight Confessions

_A/N: At long last, an update. A bit of fluff, but hey, I'm a romantic at heart. _

**Midnight Confessions**

**North of Union Station  
June 13, 2001  
2130 Local**

Mac's eyes widened. "What did you say?"

"Stay with me tonight." Harm lowered his head. "I don't want to be alone. I'd want—need—my best friend here with me."

Mac reached for his hand. "Of course I'll stay. I still have a bag here. I can sleep on the sofa."

"Where have you been sleeping?"

"In your bed."

"Then sleep there."

"But Harm, the sofa is too short for you. Besides, you said yourself how good it would be to sleep in your bed. I'll take the couch."

"We could share."

"Share?"

"I'm talking about sleeping, Mac. I'm exhausted. Besides, it isn't like we haven't hot bunked before."

Mac thought back to that night in the Appalachians. It was one thing to sleep close together to conserve body heat. Quite another to share a bed. They'd been fully clothed that night in the mountains. But unless Harm had changed, he only wore boxers to bed. It had been hard enough to resist him the night they thought Clay had died. But after sharing a kiss on the admiral's porch… Still, they were both adults. If Harm could handle sleeping in the same bed, so could she.

"Okay, flyboy. Let's go to bed."

**North of Union Station  
Midnight**

Harm had fallen asleep almost immediately. It took a little while for Mac to do so, but she soon found herself getting drowsy. She often had insomnia, but perhaps it was the relief of finding Harm alive that she allowed herself to relax. It wasn't long before she also fell asleep.

She was awakened at 2358 by the sound of someone mumbling. Harm tossed and turned in the bed.

"No. Can't wait. Have to… get home… Mac… Wedding… Got to… be there… Stop it… Mac…"

"Harm. Harm, wake up." She spoke softly.

He didn't respond but kept talking in his sleep. "Got to stop the… Mac… can't marry…"

_Why was he talking about her wedding? Probably because he'd asked her about it earlier._

"Have to tell her… truth… Water's cold… So cold… Can't make it… I'm sorry, Mac." His restlessness continued.

"Wake up, Harm. You're having a nightmare." She gently touched his shoulder.

Harm's eyes flew open. He blinked, then glanced around the room as if trying to determine where he was before finally looking at her.

"Mac? You're here."

"Where else would I be? You asked me to stay, remember?"

Harm sat up in bed. "Yeah."

"Are you okay?"

"I guess."

"Want to talk about it?"

"I keep dreaming about the crash. Earlier that day, when the LSO was preparing us for quals, he told the RIOs being on their toes. He said, 'The water's cold down there.' After I went down, I kept hearing his words. It was like he had a premonition."

"It must have been terrifying." Mac scooted up in the bed to sit beside him.

"At first, I thought someone would find me. I punched out less than a minute after Skates. But as the hours dragged on, I realized it was hopeless. I was ready to give up."

Mac hesitated. She wanted to ask him about his decision to fly that night, but she wasn't sure she'd like the answer. Nevertheless, she had to know.

"Harm, why were you flying back in that kind of weather?"

"It wasn't bad when we left the ship. Otherwise, they would have never cleared us to fly. The storm moved faster than anyone expected. Then the plane had a low oxygen warning. We had to drop below 10,000. We took a lightning strike. Then nothing worked right."

"I thought you once told me F14s were designed to fly through hurricanes if necessary."

"They are. Something was wrong with this one. I kept it in the air as long as I could."

"Yeah, that's what Skates said. But you still didn't answer my question. Why were you flying back that night? Couldn't you have waited until the next morning?

"No, I couldn't."

"Why not?"

"Because I might have been too late."

"Please don't tell me it was because of me. I regret some of the things I said some things to you when we parted. When we heard your plane went down, I blamed myself."

"It wasn't your fault, Mac."

"But if I hadn't been so insistent on you coming to the wedding…"

"I wasn't coming back for the ceremony."

Mac's heart sank. She felt as if someone had punched her in the stomach. "Then why… Renee. I'm sure you missed her."

Harm took her hand. "No, not because of Renee. I was coming back with the intention of stopping the wedding."

**North of Union Station  
0030 Local**

Mac stood at the window of Harm's loft, looking onto the street below. She wasn't sure why she'd pulled away from him.

_I had every intention of stopping the wedding_.

His words echoed in her mind. He planned to stop her wedding! It was no secret Harm had never liked Mic, but she never guessed he would try to stop her from marrying the man. After all, didn't he once say if it was okay with her, then it was okay with him?

So why the sudden change? Then she remembered his words that night on the admiral's porch.

_Mac, you have someone who will always love you._

He wasn't going to stop the wedding because he didn't approve of her marrying Mic. He was going to stop it because he loved her.

She thought back to that night in Sydney Harbor. He hadn't pushed her away; he'd asked her to wait. Only she couldn't see the truth then. She saw it as rejection. And when Mic forced, yes forced, the ring on her two nights later, she was too vulnerable to say no.

Tears ran down her face at the realization, and she reached to wipe them away. She didn't hear Harm walk up behind her and jumped when he lightly touched her shoulder.

"Mac? You okay?"

She turned to face him, her tears still flowing.

"Hey, you're crying I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you." He reached to wipe her tears.

"You didn't. Not exactly. Harm, why were you going to stop my wedding?"

"I would think it's obvious."

"Don't clam up on me, Harm. I need you to say the words."

"You're right. My inability to express my feelings almost cost me something very precious., I only hope it isn't too late."

"Then, just tell me."

"I couldn't bear to see the woman I love marry another man. And if you'll give me a chance, I'll prove how much I love you."

Mac took his hand and led him back to the bedroom.


	15. Trouble

_A/N: Things are never easy for our dynamic duo. Not only is trouble brewing, someone doesn't give up easily._

**Trouble**

**JAG Headquarters  
June 14, 2001  
0800 Local**

Admiral A J Chegwidden strolled into the bullpen with a lighter heart than he'd had in weeks. Hearing the news that Harm was alive was the best thing to happen in a long time. Seeing him last night was even better.

Not only that, but his chief of staff looked happier than she had in weeks. No, she looked happier than she had in months. He only hoped the two of them would come to their senses and work things out. Yes, a relationship between the two of them would cause problems with them being in the same chain of command, but A J was confident he could work something out so they could be together. If needed, he'd call in a few favors.

"Attention on deck!" Gunnery Sgt. Galindez stood at attention as did the other staff members in the bullpen.

"As you were." He stopped at his yeoman's desk. "Tiner, assemble everyone in the bullpen in fifteen minutes. I only want to say this once."

"Yes, sir," the petty officer replied.

Fifteen minutes later, A J entered the bullpen where the officers and staff had gathered. "Most of you have already heard that by the grace of God, Commander Rabb was found alive yesterday. I'll not go into details but suffice to say he had quite an ordeal. However, after being checked out at Bethesda, he was given a clean bill of health and will be returning to JAG on Monday. Gunny, Tiner, the two of you will gather the commander's personal things from storage."

"Yes, Sir," the replied in unison.

Sighs of relief spread around the bullpen, along with "That's wonderful, Sir," and "It will be good to have him back." A J wasn't the only one with a lighter heart today. Everyone looked thrilled to hear the news. Almost everyone that is. A certain Lt. Commander didn't look happy.

"Okay, people, back to work. Commander Hughes, come with me."

"Yes, Sir."

Once inside his office, A J spoke. "Have a seat, Commander. As you probably guessed, as the senior officer, Commander Rabb will occupy the office he had before this ordeal. You'll move down the hall to Mattoni's office."

"Isn't that location smaller, Sir?"

"It is. Do you have a problem with that?"

"No, Sir. It's just wanted to make sure I have room for personal things."

"Take home whatever you don't have room for. This is an office, not living headquarters."

"Right. Is the, uh, is Commander Rabb ready to report back? Won't he have to go before the mishap review board because of the crash?"

Chegwidden frowned. Hughes had changed since the last time they served together, and A J wasn't sure he liked what he saw. Not to mention the report he received from Admiral Morris the day before. "That's no concern of yours. In any case, appearing before the flight review board has no bearing on his duty as a JAG officer."

"Understood, Sir."

"You can start clearing your things from Rabb's office. Tiner and Gunny can help you move things if needed. That will be all."

"Aye, aye, Sir." Hughes walked to the door, then turn around. "Admiral, might I inquire about Colonel Mackenzie? Does Commander Rabb being found have anything to do with her absence?"

A J frowned. "Whatever gave you that idea?"

"I heard she and the commander were close, and I thought that might explain the family emergency she had yesterday."

"Colonel Mackenzie's personal life is none of your concern. Neither is Commander Rabb's. Dismissed!"

**McMurphy's Tavern  
June 14, 2001  
1800 Local**

Lt. Commander Rick Hughes sat at the bar, downing his second beer of the evening. He was tempted to order something stronger. Two weeks ago, when he'd gotten the news he'd been assigned to JAG headquarters, he saw it as his chance to move up in the ranks. His career had hit a dead-end at Pearl, thanks in part to a senior attorney who had it in for him.

Sturgis Turner played it by the books—no bending the rules. Hughes took great delight in the fact Chegwidden had selected him over Turner to come to JAG. He aspired to become the Judge Advocate General one day, and he didn't care who had to step over to accomplish that goal.

But he'd heard about the hotshot lawyer, Harmon Rabb. JAG's poster boy, the aviator, turned lawyer. And while the fact he was missing and presumed dead was unfortunate, not having Rabb around was one less obstacle out of his way.

Sarah Mackenzie was another one. Hughes doubted she'd ever become JAG. First of all, she was a Marine. Second, he knew about her article thirty-two and the fact she'd murdered her husband. Didn't matter that it was self-defense. It was a black spot on her record. Not to mention the fact she'd committed adultery and fraternized with a senior officer.

But she had Chegwidden's favor. With Rabb coming back, JAG would once again have its dynamic team, and that would leave him out in the cold. Unless he could think of something, his days at headquarters were likely numbered.

Engrossed in his thoughts, he didn't notice someone had taken the seat beside him until the man spoke.

"Good evenin' mate."

The thick, Australian accent grated on his nerves. Everything agitated him this evening, but the last thing he wanted was to strike up a conversation with anyone. But the man was persistent.

"Bloody shame to be sitting alone in a bar on a Friday night."

What the hell was this man trying to do? "Hey, if that's supposed to be a pick-up line, I'm not interested. I just came here to unwind and have a drink."

"Ah, no mate. Nothing like that. Just making conversation." The man laughed, then turned to the bartender. I'll have a lager."

Hughes took another drink of beer, but the Aussie wasn't easily deterred.

"Are you new around here?"

"Yes."

"Thought so. Haven't seen you here before. Of course, I don't come here as often as I once did. My mates at JAG often held wet downs here."

That got his attention. "You're with JAG? How come I've never seen you?"

"Used to be. I was on an exchange program from the Royal Australian Navy. Mic Brumby."

"Lt. Commander Rick Hughes."

"My fiancée is still stationed at headquarters."

"And who would that be? I was recently assigned there, but I probably know her."

"Lt. Colonel Sarah Mackenzie."

So this was the erstwhile fiancé. He had heard rumors as to why the colonel had broken off her engagement and wondered if they were true. If so, he could use the information to his advantage. Maybe he could learn something. "I wasn't aware the colonel was engaged."

"Something happened, and we had to postpone our wedding. Haven't set a new date yet."

Either the man was in denial, or the colonel wasn't entirely truthful. Hughes decided to test the waters. "My guess it was due to Commander Rabb's disappearance?"

The Australian frowned. "How would you know about that?"

Rick shrugged. "Just a guess. Everyone was pretty upset over it. I would think since the colonel and the commander were partners for years, it was especially hard on her."

"Rabb's always been a thorn in my side. Bloody shame about him dying, though."

"You haven't heard?"

"No, heard what?"

"They found him on a small island in the Atlantic. From what I heard, he had been suffering from amnesia for a while, but doctors at Bethesda gave him a clean bill of health. He'll be back at headquarters on Monday."

"Rabb's alive?"

"I'm surprised Mac didn't say anything to you."

"I gotta go, mate." He threw some bills on the bar, then hurried out the door.

**Sarah Mackenzie's Apartment  
June 14, 2001  
2230 Local**

Mic Brumby sat in his car and watched for any signs of Sarah. He'd gone to her door, hoping she would be there, but after knocking repeatedly, she didn't answer. He went downstairs to wait in case she showed up.

From his vantage point, he could see there were no lights in her apartment windows. Hughes said something about a family emergency. Mac didn't have any family except for her uncle and her estranged mother. Well, there was Chloe. He hoped nothing was wrong with her.

By 2300, he gave up and decided to drive back to his apartment. He thought about phoning Sarah, but she hadn't been answering his phone calls. No, it was best to see her in person. Now that Rabb was alive, nothing was standing in the way. Sarah would come to her senses, and they could reschedule the wedding. And once he had that ring on her finger, she would be his forever. Then he would somehow convince her to leave JAG and Washington.


	16. Friends and Lovers

_A/N: A long time in coming. I'm finally getting back into the mood to write about JAG. I've given up hope that any of Hollywood's powers that be will allow Harm and Mac to get together. The way I see it, we can't have too many shippery fanfics. Someone has to get it right. Radiorox, your update this morning inspired me to finally write the scene I've threatened to write for weeks. I figure we need a "Stick it to Mic" day, don't you? _

**Friends and Lovers**

**North of Union Station  
June 15, 2001  
0830 Local**

When Mac awoke the following morning, she was surprised to see sunlight streaming through the windows. Her internal clock told her it was well past the time she usually awakened. Most nights, she had insomnia, but she'd never slept so soundly as she had last night.

Of course, she'd never fallen asleep in Harmon Rabb's arms before. Not to mention, they didn't fall asleep until the wee hours of the morning. She looked over at the man sleeping beside her.

Harm. Here. Alive. And she was in his bed.

After years of searching, she finally felt complete. What they shared last night hadn't been just sex. It was lovemaking. Two had become one. Friends had become lovers.

Harm stirred and opened his eyes, smiling when he saw Mac. "Hey."

"Hey, yourself, Sailor."

"What time is it?"

"0947."

"How do you do that?"

"I told you it's a Marine thing." She didn't want to admit he'd thrown her clock out whack during the night.

Harm looked on the nightstand. Of course, Mac was right. She was never off more than a few seconds if that. "We slept this late?"

"As I recall, we didn't do a lot of sleeping."

He grinned. "Oh, yeah. We didn't. Complaining?"

"Not on your life, Flyboy." Mac grimaced as she said the word. "I'm sorry. I hope…"

"That I'll be able to keep my flight status?"

"If that's what you want."

"What I want is never to lose you."

"I promise you no matter what, you'll never lose me."

"I seem to recall we had this conversation before."

"Yeah, we did. But this time, there's no going back." Mac pulled his head toward hers, and their lips met in a fiery kiss. Tongues dueled and hands caressed. Sheets were tossed aside as the two of them joined once again.

Afterward, they lay entwined, their bodies covered in sweat, but neither of them in a hurry to move. Finally, Mac could no longer ignore the rumbling in her stomach.

"Hungry Marine?" Harm teased.

She couldn't help but blush. "Let's say I worked up an appetite."

"Guess I'd better feed you." He swung his legs off the side of the bed. "Want to shower together?"

"If we do that, it'll be another hour or so, and I need food. And you need to keep your strength up. But I will take you up on that shower later. You go first. Then I'll shower." Mac looked at his naked six as he walked to the bathroom. Finally, after all these years, they were free to look and to touch as much as they wanted. As tempted as she was to join him behind those glass bricks, she was content to lay in bed and bask in the memories of last night and their newfound relationship.

**Sarah Mackenzie's Apartment  
June 15, 2001  
2130 Local**

"You sure you're okay with staying at my place tonight? I mean, since you haven't been home the last few weeks." Mac asked as they got off the elevator. After (finally) eating lunch, she drove Harm to Andrews to pick up his Lexus. He had followed her back to Georgetown so she could pick up a change of clothes. But between the parking lot and the door, both of them realized they didn't want to take the time to drive back to Union Station.

"This is fine. Besides, you have both a tub and a shower."

Mac cocked an eyebrow. "And just what do you have in mind?"

"Shower first. I don't think I can wait long enough for the tub to fill." Harm pulled her into his arms, and their lips met. Neither of them could get enough of one another.

Mac managed to unlock her apartment door. Once inside, they began to pull and tug and one another's clothing, leaving a trail into the bedroom and bath.

**Outside Sarah Mackenzie's Apartment  
June 15, 2001  
2200 Local**

Mic Brumby pulled his car into a vacant spot on the street. He'd driven by several times during the day, hoping to find Sarah home. Finally, her Corvette was parked in front of the building. She must have taken care of whatever family emergency she'd had.

He hadn't tried to call her. It was better to do this in person. Once she had time to think about everything—about the life he'd promised her—he knew she would come around.

Reaching into his pocket to assure the ring was there, he entered the building, then took the elevator to her floor. He knocked softly on the door, in case she was sleeping. It wouldn't do to wake her up and make her angry. He needed to do this right. If needed, he would get down on one knee.

No one answered the door, so he knocked again. Still no answer. About to give up, he impulsively tried the knob and found it unlocked. Mic frowned. It wasn't like Sarah to be careless. Hoping she was okay, he quietly turned the knob and entered her apartment. "Sarah?"

No answer. The room was dark except for a faint light coming from the open bedroom door. Mic made his way toward it, stopping when his foot caught something on the floor. Reaching down, he picked up the object—a bra. That's when he realized the light was coming from the bathroom.

Smiling, he continued walking that way. He knew he shouldn't, but the thought of surprising Mac in the shower was more than he could stand. She was his. Once they had a chance to talk, she would come to her senses, and they would be a couple again.

He paused just inside the bedroom door when he heard the water stop. Then he heard a giggle. Sarah giggling? That wasn't like her. Maybe something was wrong. He reached for the light switch and barely had time to see the trail of clothes strewn on the floor when the bathroom door opened to reveal his Sarah clad only a towel.

She gasped. "Mic, what are you doing here?"

"Sarah, the door was unlocked. I thought something was wrong and I—" His words were cut off by the site of one Harmon Rabb emerging from the bathroom, also wearing only a towel. "What the hell?"


	17. Drowning Sorrows

_A/N: A short update. Will Mic finally get it through his thick skull that Mac doesn't want him? What will he do?_

**Drowning Sorrows**

**Sarah Mackenzie's Apartment  
June 15, 2001  
2220 Local**

"Mic, what are you doing here? How dare you come barging into my bedroom."

"What the bloody hell is going on?"

"What does it look like?" Harm said.

"You son of a bitch. What are you doing here with my fiancée?"

Mac stepped between the two men. The last thing she wanted was for them to get in another fight. Especially since Harm wasn't exactly dressed for the occasion. "I am not your fiancée. You seem to have forgotten I threw the ring at you and told you it was over?"

"You were just upset, Luv. I know you didn't mean it."

"I meant every word I said. Now I suggest you get out of here before I call the police."

"You wouldn't do that."

"Want to bet?"

"But Sarah, you love me. I know you do."

"No, Mic. Think about it. Have I ever once said those words to you? I don't love you. Never have and never will. You took advantage of me when I was in a vulnerable state."

"I can make you happy, Sarah. I'm willing to overlook what's happened with you and Rabb. If you'll just give me a chance."

"You need to get it through your thick skull. It's over. I'm in love with Harm. Not you. I was only settling. I shouldn't have let things go as far as they did, and for that I'm sorry. But there can never be an us."

"But—"

"Go, Mic. Go back to Australia. There's no place for you in my life."

He opened his mouth, but Harm interjected, putting a protective arm around Mac. "I think you heard the lady. It's time for you to leave, Brumby."

With a look of resignation in his eyes, Mic turned and left.

**McMurphy's Tavern  
June 15, 2001  
2330 Local**

Mic Brumby was already on his third lager in less than an hour. As a rule, he limited the amount of alcohol he consumed, even though his tolerance was high. Tonight, he didn't care. He planned to get rip-roaring drunk. He drained what was left in the glass. "Bartender. Another one."

The bartender raised his eyes in question. "Are you sure?"

"Look, mate. I'm not drunk if that's what you're worried about."

The bartender shrugged. "All right. But if I think you've had enough, I'm shutting you off and calling a cab."

"I think that sounds fair enough. I'll be the designated driver."

Mic turned in surprise at the sound of a somewhat familiar voice. It was the same Lt. Commander he spoke with the previous evening.

"What's it to you, mate?"

"Hey. Just trying to help. You look like a man here to drown his sorrows."

"You can say that again." Mic shook his head. "You think you know someone. Damn Rabb for interfering. How could Sarah choose him over me?"

"What do you mean?"

"Sarah and I were supposed to be married. She postponed the wedding when Rabb's plane went down. After I learned from you that he was alive, I went to her apartment to patch things up and set a date. He was there."

"I've heard they're good friends."

"Oh, it's more than friendship, mate. I caught them coming out of the shower together. And Sarah told me she's in love with Harm. I always suspected it but kept hoping…" He continued to ramble.

"Sounds like you have good reason to get drunk."

"Yeah, mate. I'd love to punch Rabb's lights out. If I thought it would do any good, I would. But I don't think that would help me get my Sarah back. Don't get me wrong. I'm glad the man's not dead, but I wish he were out of Sarah's life.

Hughes shrugged. "Who knows. Maybe it will happen."


	18. Revenge

_A/N: Harm returns to JAG. But someone isn't happy about him being back. I need to do something with the Hughes character. _

**Revenge**

**JAG Headquarters  
June 18, 2001  
0730 Local**

Commander Harmon Rabb stepped off the elevator at JAG headquarters with Mac by his side. It seemed like a lifetime since he was last here, but only seven weeks had passed since the admiral gave him the TAD assignment on the Patrick Henry.

He paused, then looked at Mac.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Just thinking about the last time I was last here. When I told you I was going to the Henry. I hurt you that day, and I'm sorry."

"Harm, it's okay. You told the truth. I didn't want to hear it then, but you were right. I was planning to marry the wrong man. I'm just sorry it took you dumping a forty-million-dollar aircraft in the ocean to make me see the truth."

He flashed her a grin. "Well, whatever it takes."

"Don't joke about it. I could have lost you."

"You have me now."

Mac smiled. "Yeah, I do, don't I?"

Gunny was the first to greet him as he walked into the bullpen. "Welcome back, Sir."

"Thanks, Gunny. It's good to be back." He looked around the room at the familiar faces—Bud, Harriet, Tiner, Mattoni, even Lt. Singer was smiling.

The admiral stood outside his office with his arms folded. He nodded in greeting. "Commander Rabb. Good to see you. You and the Colonel can take a few minutes to get settled in, and then I want to see both of you in my office."

"Yes, sir."

On the other side of the bullpen, Lt. Cdr. Rick Hughes listened with interest to the admiral's words. Maybe he wouldn't have to do much after all, but he'd do what it took to remain at headquarters.

Two nights ago, he'd heard the jilted Australian's words. It was all he could do to remain at the bar and listen to the sob story. Had there not been the possibility of there being something in it for him, he would have turned and gone the opposite direction.

So, he endured the sob story of how a certain Lt. Colonel had ditched him for another man. And not just any man, but her partner at JAG. Brumby stated he suspected there had always been something between the two officers, but now there was no doubt about it.

Hughes's attention perked when the blubbering idiot told of almost catching the two of them in the act. He wondered what the admiral would do if he knew. Surely, he wouldn't send the two of them on out of town investigations.

But he wouldn't march into his CO's office immediately. He would bide his time, observe the two of them, looking for any improprieties while on the job.

Harmon Rabb Jr. may be back at JAG, but if he had anything to say about things, it wouldn't be for long.

* * *

Twenty minutes after arriving at JAG, Harm and Mac knocked on the admiral's door.

"Enter."

"Commander Rabb and Colonel Mackenzie reporting as ordered, Sir."

"At ease. Have a seat."

"Yes, Sir."

"Commander, as I said earlier, it's good to have you back. I trust you're ready to resume your duties."

"I am Admiral."

"Good, good. Colonel, I believe you're lead attorney on the Ryan court-martial."

"That's correct, Sir. Lt. Roberts is sitting second chair. We're due in court at 0900."

"Any reason to believe he can't handle it without you?"

"No, Sir. Bud, uh, Lt. Roberts is doing a fine job. We're pretty confident we'll get a conviction."

"Good. As of now, you're off the case. I'll inform Admiral Morris. I know the two of you have been through a lot lately, but I received word this morning of an incident, and I need my best team on it. Lt. Amy Evans, a crypto officer onboard the Seahawk, has accused her commanding officer, Captain Selman, of sexual harassment. Selman has an outstanding record and is up for promotion. Obviously will put things on hold.

"The Seahawk is docked in Norfolk. I'm sending the two of you there for the investigation. Shouldn't take more than three or four days."

Harm and Mac glanced at one another.

"Is there a problem?"

"No sir, but—" Mac nodded at Harm.

"Admiral before you send us out together, there's something you should know. Colonel Mackenzie, that is Mac, and I need to inform you there has been a change in our relationship."

Chegwidden crossed his arms and leaned against his desk. "Is that so?"

"Yes, sir," Harm said. "Mac and I came to an understanding. We, uh—"

"We're seeing one another. Socially that is." Mac finished for him.

A slow smile crept across the admiral's face. "Will this cause any problems with the two of you working together. Facing one another in court?"

"No, sir."

"Not at all, sir."

"I trust the two of you will be discreet and maintain proper decorum while in uniform."

"Absolutely."

"Then I don't see a problem. We can revisit this conversation in the future should the need arise, and deal with the chain of command issues."

"Thank you, sir."

"Admiral, given the recent circumstances, Mac and I thought it best not to tell anyone else for the time being."

"Understandable. No one will hear it from me. Dismissed."

They stood, then walked toward the door. Before opening it, Chegwidden called to them. "Harm, Mac?"

They turned, surprised by him using their first names. "Congratulations. It's about damned time."

Once outside the admiral's office, Harm asked. "How long will it take you to get your things together?"

"Just need to talk to Bud. I shouldn't be more than half an hour."

"Okay. I'll get the car, then meet you downstairs at 0930. I suppose you have a bag packed."

Mac nodded. "And I suppose you don't?"

Harm's grin said it all.

"I'm going to have to teach you a few things, Flyboy. We'll swing by your place, then get on the road." Mac saw Rick Hughes across the bullpen, and his eyes were on her and Harm. Something about that man grated on her nerves. Ignoring him, she went to Bud's office.

Twenty minutes later, she gathered her things, then started toward the elevator when Cdr. Hughes stopped her.

"Going somewhere, Colonel? We're supposed to be in court at 0900."

"Since when did you become my keeper?"

"I'm not. Just reminding you."

"I don't need any reminders from you. Is that understood?"

"But Mac—"

She raised her voice, not caring who heard her. "I told you it's Colonel Mackenzie to you. I am a superior officer. If you have a problem following orders, I will take this up with the admiral."

"Colonel, please. Calm down. I meant no disrespect."

"Out of my way." Mac pushed past him and walked toward the elevator.

"Where are you going?"

"None of your business." She pressed the elevator button and silently prayed the doors would open soon. Otherwise, she was apt to commit murder right here at headquarters. She'd had a bad feeling about Hughes from day one but shrugged it off due to the fact he'd been brought in to replace Harm. Now Harm was back, and her perception of the man hadn't changed. Maybe she would speak with the admiral when she returned from Norfolk.

The doors opened, and she stepped inside, leaving Hughes standing there. Under any other circumstance, she would have gone to the opposing attorney to explain why she was no longer on the case. But as far as she was concerned, Hughes could take a long leap off a tall building.

* * *

It had been a rough day for Rick Hughes. Not only had he been bested in the courtroom by a junior officer, but he'd also been furious to learn Admiral Chegwidden had sent Colonel Mackenzie and Commander Rabb together on an investigation.

He was supposed to be Colonel Mackenzie's partner now. It should have been him going to Norfolk, not Rabb. He had to do something about JAG's golden boy. Otherwise, his days at headquarters would be numbered.

But what?

An idea came to him. He had information they admiral wasn't privy to. Once the admiral heard his two senior officers were in an intimate relationship, he wasn't likely to send them out together.

His decision made, he walked to the yeoman's desk. "Tiner, I need to see the admiral ASAP."


	19. Plotting

_A/N: Ready for Hughes to get what's coming to him? I have no idea what hotels were in Norfolk in 2001, nor do I know the logistics of obtaining rooms at visiting officer quarters. Therefore, I'm using author's privilege. Any mistakes are my own._

**Plotting**

**JAG Headquarters  
June 18, 2001  
1630 Local**

"Tiner, get me in to see the admiral as soon as possible."

Jason stood at attention before picking up the phone to call Chegwidden. "Sir, Commander Hughes needs to see you right away… Not sure, Sir." He placed his hand over the mouthpiece before addressing Hughes. "He wants to know what this is in regards to."

Rick debated for a moment. He could say it was personal, but that wasn't likely to go over well. "Tell him it is of utmost importance and has a significant impact with day to day operations."

Tiner nodded, then spoke into the phone. "Yes, Sir. I'll tell him."

Turning back to Hughes, he said, "The admiral is on his way to a meeting with the SECNAV and can't see you until tomorrow morning. He said 0900."

"Not good enough. I need to see him now."

"Sorry, but he said whatever it is can wait."

"Tiner, I don't think you understand. I said NOW."

Admiral Chegwidden came out of his office. "Hughes, are you badgering the petty officer?"

"No, Sir!"

"Didn't sound that way to me. Now, unless it's a matter of national security, I'll see you at 0900 tomorrow.

"I'll be in court at that time, Sir."

"Fine. See me at 1500. Dismissed!"

"Yes, Sir."

* * *

Hughes left Tiner's office, then walked back to his own. By the time he got there, he couldn't contain his anger any longer, slamming the door behind him and drawing the attention of Bud Roberts.

Bud, ever trying to be helpful, knocked.

"What do you want, Lieutenant? Don't you know the meaning of a CLOSED door?"

"I wanted to know if you were okay, Sir. You seem upset."

"It's none of your business, Roberts. Now get out."

"Yes, sir. Just trying to be helpful. Sorry to bother you." Bud hurried back to his own office.

* * *

Across the bullpen, Hughes's actions caught the attention of one Gunnery Sgt. Galindez. It wasn't the first time he'd noticed something amiss about the officer's behavior. The first day he came to JAG, Gunny observed the way Hughes acted toward Col. Mackenzie. Not to mention his reaction when he learned Cdr. Rabb was returning.

The man had made a few snide comments when he and Tiner moved Cdr. Rabb's belongings back to his office. Hughes wasn't happy about having to move. Gunny wasn't one to judge, but Rick Hughes spelled trouble. Big time trouble.

**Norfolk, Virginia  
June 18, 2001  
1830 Local**

It had been a long day for Harm and Mac. After driving to Norfolk, they were able to meet with Lt. Evans, the officer who had brought charges of sexual harassment. They also interviewed several potential witnesses, none of whom could substantiate her complaint. They planned to meet with Captain Selman, along with a few others, the following morning.

"Why don't we call it quits for the day, Mac? I'll get us checked into the VOQ, then get a bite to eat. We can start fresh in the morning."

"Sounds good to me, Flyboy."

Upon arrival at the VOQ, they learned there were no rooms available. When they walked back to the car, Harm said, "Guess we'll have to drive into town and find a hotel."

"Okay by me. I just need a place where I can get a long, hot bath. Two rooms."

Harm quirked an eyebrow.

"For appearance's sake. Remember what we told the admiral."

"Oh, yeah," he grinned. "Wouldn't want to get off to a bad start."

But after checking numerous hotels, the situation wasn't looking good. Thinking they might have to travel as far as Richmond, they finally a room at the Marriott. Harm checked them in while Mac waited in the car. "We're all set. They had a suite."

"A suite? That was the _only_ thing available? Are you sure?"

Harm put his hand over his heart. "Mac. You wound me. According to the desk clerk, we were lucky to get it. It _does_ have two bedrooms."

"For appearance's sake only," Mac said with a sly grin.

Harm quirked an eyebrow. He knew he wouldn't be sleeping alone tonight.

**McMurphy's Tavern  
June 18, 2001  
1900 Local**

For the third time in less than a week, Rick Hughes found himself sitting in McMurphy's Tavern. He probably should have found another place. The last thing he wanted was to run into that whining Aussie again. He'd gotten the information he needed, so there was no further need to act sympathetic.

Nor did he want to get friendly with any JAG staff who might have come for an after-work drink. Not that it was likely on a Monday night.

Hughes was still furious over not being able to meet with the admiral this afternoon. Chegwidden had, in effect, said his concerns weren't important. The same man who had spent all night at the office with Col. Mackenzie and Lt. Roberts because of the Colonel's "intuition" about Rabb.

Yeah, he'd heard the talk going around JAG. How Sarah Mackenzie "spotted" Rabb's empty life raft the night of his accident, then later "found" him on the remote island. Maybe there was something to her abilities, but Hughes didn't buy all that psychic stuff. He figured finding the raft was a lucky guess. As far as the island, she probably had someone give her inside information.

Whatever the case, she was not away from court last week because of a family member. Lt. Roberts was merely covering for her. Hughes wondered what the judge would have to say when he learned the truth.

Chegwidden didn't have a problem with Rabb and Mackenzie's "relationship." The fact that Hughes had second-hand info about the two of them being involved. Anyone could say the information was false, obtained from a jilted ex-fiancé.

No, he needed something more. An idea came to mind, and he pulled his cell phone from his pocket. He had connections in Norfolk. Now was the time to use them.


	20. Lies

_A/N: I never intended to take more than two or three months to finish this story. Can't believe it's been almost a year since I started it. The storyline took a slightly different direction than I originally planned. Not quite to the end, but I'll wrap it up soon. I thought we'd seen the last of Brumby, but the muse told me otherwise. _

**Lies**

**McMurphy's Tavern  
June 18, 2001  
2000 Local**

Things were not going as Rick Hughes had hoped. His friend in Norfolk had called back with the news that Rabb and Mackenzie didn't stay at the VOQ and that he hadn't been able to determine where they were.

"I assume they checked into a hotel, but with the Patrick Henry in port and a couple of conventions in town, overnight accommodations are limited. I have a friend who works at the Marriott. I'll see if he can help. Why is this so important to you?"

"Never mind the reasons. Just do what you can," Hughes said.

"If they are at the Marriot, do you want to leave a message?"

"No. If they're in the hotel, get their room numbers, and I'll take it from there."

"Okay. I figure you're up to something devious. Remember, you owe me, and I intend to collect."

"Never had a doubt you wouldn't, Erica."

Hughes ended the call, then took a sip of his beer. He sat the glass on the counter with a little more force than he intended, drawing the attention of a couple of nearby patrons. Smiling an apology, he willed himself to act calmly.

Engrossed in his thoughts, he failed to notice the person who slipped into the stool beside him. But when he heard the accent, there was no doubt who the voice belonged to.

"Give me a lager," Mic Brumby told the bartender. He turned to Hughes. "I see you're here again, Mate."

Hughes was tempted to tell the SOB he wasn't his mate when an idea struck him. "Yeah, just killing a little time after a long day at headquarters. Wasn't sure you'd be here tonight."

"This is my last time. I've closed my office. Packing up and going back to Australia."

Hughes frowned. "So soon?"

"Long overdue. Sarah made it clear she doesn't want me."

"You don't strike me as a man who gives up easily."

Mic shrugged. "I fought for her well over a year. One way or another, Rabb has always come between us. The bastard always comes out on top. Both with Sarah and at JAG. Gets by with things others wouldn't."

"I can't do anything about the first, but what would you say if I could do something about JAG?"

"You're pullin' my leg, Mate. You're a lesser rank than he is with no authority. You can't do anything."

Hughes bristled at the comment about his rank. He'd been in the Navy almost as long as Rabb. The promotions board passed him over twice. Okay, so maybe his fit reps weren't perfect, but whose were? But he needed to set aside his anger. He couldn't care less if Sarah Mackenzie was with Brumby, but he wanted to become a senior attorney at JAG. And he couldn't do that as long as Rabb was there. "I can't do anything personally, but I do have connections."

"So, what's in it for me?"

"At the least, the satisfaction of seeing Rabb get what he deserves. At best, you could get the girl back."

Mic snorted. "Doubt that. She made her decision."

"She could change her mind. Especially if Rabb is out of the picture." He rose from his seat, then threw some bills on the counter to cover his tab. "Just don't be too quick to leave town," he said over his shoulder as he left the bar.

**JAG Headquarters  
June 19, 2001  
0900 Hours**

Lt. Cdr. Rick Hughes entered the bullpen and looked toward the large office now occupied by Rabb before going to his own space.

He opened the door, then sat his cover and briefcase on his desk. The room wasn't even large enough for a credenza. Small and cramped, it had steam pipes on the ceiling and along one wall. It was not the place for a commissioned officer and lawyer in the US Navy.

But he needn't worry. He didn't plan to be here long. He'd spent most of the night coming up with a plan after hearing back from his friend in Norfolk. Call it luck that Rabb and Mackenzie stayed at the Marriott. In one room. While on assignment. Certainly not the kind of conduct expected of military officers. Chegwidden may not do anything about it, but he knew someone who could.

Sitting at his desk, he picked up the phone. He drummed his fingers while waiting for someone to answer.

"Good morning, Secretary Nelson's office. How may I help you?"

"This is Lt. Cdr. Rick Hughes with the JAG Corps. I need to speak to Secretary Nelson."

"Are you calling on behalf of Admiral Chegwidden?"

"No, I'm not."

"Then, I'm sorry. I cannot put your call through. All calls to the Secretary from JAG come from the admiral or acting JAG. Now, if you're calling in that capacity."

"This is not business. It's personal. I'm a family friend of Secretary Nelson."

The woman sounded perturbed, but said, "Hold a moment. I'll see if he can speak with you."

A minute later, a familiar voice came over the line. "Rick, good to hear from you. I heard you were at headquarters. Congratulations."

"Thank you, Sir. I've worked long and hard for this."

Nelson cleared his throat. "Yes, well. To what do I owe this call?"

"It's about an issue at JAG."

"JAG? Shouldn't you be talking your CO?"

"That's the problem, sir. He refuses to talk with me about it."

"Doesn't sound like A J. We may not always agree on things, but he's a straight shooter. If something is going on, he'll deal with it."

"Not if it involves his favorite officers, Rabb and Mackenzie."

"Oh? And just what have they done?"

"Well, Sir, I believe their conduct is interfering with good order and discipline at the office."

"How so?"

"They're involved, Sir."

"And you know this how?"

"I'd rather not say, but I can tell you the news came from a reliable source."

"I've always suspected there was something between the two of them, but they're of equal rank. It's not fraternization. Neither one is in command over the other. Unless they're carrying on in the office, I don't care. Hell, they vacationed together in Russia a few years ago."

"What if I told you they stayed in the same hotel room while on an investigation in Norfolk?"

"It's none of my business. Let Chegwidden deal with it if there is any sign of impropriety."

Hughes's face reddened. "But word's around you don't even like Rabb. If I'm not mistaken, you once called him 'Harmful Rabb.'"

"That's of no consequence. The man earned my respect when he defended my son. If Bryan hadn't been so stubborn, he would still be in the Navy today. Now, I'm a busy man. I suggest you get back to work and quit worrying about Rabb and Mackenzie." The line clicked dead.

Hughes slammed the receiver back into its cradle. "Damn!" He was sure his father's friendship with the SECNAV would for something. Harmon Rabb, Jr. had even managed to charm the seasoned politician. Well, it didn't matter. He would just have to find another way.

* * *

Gunnery Sergeant Victor Galindez didn't intend to listen in on Cdr. Hughes's phone call. He'd learned a long time ago with the incident involving Tiner's brother that it was best not to get involved in things that didn't pertain to him.

But as he passed the office and heard Hughes mention the Colonel and the Commander, it caught his attention. Gunny was fond of both officers. Not only that, but he also didn't trust Hughes. When the call ended, he walked back to his desk.

Gunny couldn't go to the admiral with just a hunch, but he had to do something. He looked toward Lt. Roberts's office. The lieutenant would understand. He would know what to do.

His decision made, Gunny walked across the bullpen, then knocked on the office door. "Lt. Roberts, may I have a word with you?"


	21. Retribution

_A/N: I'm long overdue in wrapping up this story. Only one or two more chapters. This part is "meh," but I need to get rid of Hughes. I'm not an expert in military law, so any mistakes about charges, suspensions, and courts-martial are my own. _

**Mario's Bar  
June 19, 2001  
2030 Local**

Rick Hughes was not going down easy. So far, all his efforts to destroy Rabb had come up short. Mac's ex-fiancé refused to stay and fight. It didn't look like Chegwidden would give him the time of day. Even the SECNAV wouldn't listen.

Okay, so he'd dug up a little dirt. But the fact they shared a hotel suite likely wouldn't be enough. One way or another, he was determined to have a position at headquarters. Damn if he'd go back to Pearl and work under the scrutiny of Sturgis Turner. At any rate, he _deserved_ to be at JAG. If he had to bring Chegwidden down along with Rabb, so be it.

He tapped his fingers on the table, trying to be patient. His "date" for the evening had a penchant for being a few minutes late, but a half-hour was unusual even for her. He signaled the waiter to bring him another scotch, then looked up to see Stephanie walking in the door.

She slid into the booth. "Rick Hughes. I was surprised to get your call. What are you doing in Washington?"

"I'm stationed at JAG Headquarters."

"How did you manage to pull that one off?"

"How do you think? I worked my way here."

The waiter returned with Rick's scotch. "Something for you, ma'am?"

Stephanie ordered a club soda.

Rick waited for the server to leave. "Not your usual vodka martini?"

"I have a feeling I need to keep my wits about me. I know this isn't a social call. What do you have up your sleeve?"

"I need your help with something."

"What if I say no?"

"I don't think you'd refuse. You wouldn't want your father to know about your little problems, would you?"

She pursed her lips. "Okay, tell me what you need."

**JAG Headquarters  
June 21, 2001  
0800 Local**

A J Chegwidden rubbed the top of his bald head. During his years as a commanding officer, he'd had to deal with many types. He considered himself a tolerant person as long as people did their job. Granted, some needed a little more discipline than others, but all in all, he'd been lucky to have an exceptional group under his command during his years at JAG.

He didn't mind ambitious people. But if they resorted to deviousness and lies, he had no tolerance. When Bud approached him a couple of days ago about Rick Hughes, he first thought it was a misunderstanding.

Then Bud told him what Gunny had overheard. There was also the earlier incident in the courtroom that Admiral Morris reported. The final straw came when he received a phone call from the daughter of his old friend, Admiral Bennett. Rick Hughes was a different person than the young lieutenant who served under him years ago at Pearl.

Still, if the officer could convince anyone his accusations had merit, it could spell trouble. There was one last thing he needed to know before proceeding. He sighed, then pressed the intercom button. "Tiner, send in Rabb and Mackenzie."

"You wanted to see us, sir? Harm asked as he and Mac entered the admiral's office.

"Come in. Close the hatch."

The two officers stood at attention in front of Chegwidden's desk.

"At ease. Have a seat."

Harm and Mac did as instructed, then Harm spoke. "Is something wrong, Admiral?"

"I trust the investigation at Norfolk went well."

"Yes, sir. Mac and I are finishing up our report. You'll have it on your desk by this afternoon. Fortunately for Captain Selman, we were unable to find any evidence to substantiate Lt. Evans' claim. There was no one to corroborate her accusations."

"I see."

"As it turns out, we learned Lt. Evans held a grudge because she was passed over for a promotion. She decided to get revenge by accusing the captain of sexual harassment. She finally admitted it yesterday afternoon," Mac said.

"I assume charges will be brought against her?"

"Yes, sir," Mac said. "We've already spoken with the convening authority, Captain Johnson."

A J shook his head. "Can't understand people these days. From what I heard, Lt. Evans had a promising career. Why do something to ruin it?"

"I've seen stranger things."

"Good job, Colonel, Commander. I've known Doug Selman for several years. Couldn't see him doing something like that, but we have to take all accusations seriously."

"Since the charges were unfounded, I assume the incident won't affect the actions of the promotion board," Harm said.

"Hope not, but you never know. Have the two of you turned in your expense report yet?"

Mac frowned. In the years since she'd been at JAG, the admiral had never questioned an expense report. "I gave mine to Tiner firs this morning."

"I did too, Sir."

"You didn't stay at the VOQ."

Harm glanced at Mac. He had a strange feeling where this was going. "No, sir. We were unable to get a room there. Matter of fact, there were some conventions in Norfolk, and we even had trouble finding a hotel. Is there a problem?"

"The two of you shared a room."

"We shared a _suite_. It was the only thing available. Harm and I have done that many times. I know up until now we were only friends, but I can assure you the two of us maintained proper decorum while we conducted this investigation."

"Sir, you know I would never do anything that would put Mac in a bad light. If there's going to be a problem with us—"

"Relax, Harm, Mac. I don't have a problem with either of your conduct. Now that you explained the hotel situation, I understand. And I'm not going to ask if you used one bedroom or two. What goes on after hours and when you're not in uniform isn't anyone's business."

"Sir, if I may ask, what brought this on?" Mac couldn't help but wonder if Mic had somehow been responsible. He'd been a sore loser. Given the fact he'd never liked Harm, she wouldn't put anything past him—including trailing her to Norfolk.

"Lt. Cdr. Hughes came to me a couple of days ago. Claimed he had enough evidence on the two of you to support charges of conduct unbecoming."

"What?"

"That's absurd!"

"That's what I told him. He claimed to have witnesses."

"I can't believe this," Mac said. "I knew he was trouble from the start. What does he have to gain by smearing our names?

"Only a top position here at JAG," Harm said. "With one or both of us out of the way… Admiral, I can assure you these charges are unfounded. I don't know who his witnesses are, but they're lying."

"Harm, Mac. I looked into this myself. Someone _is_ lying, and it wasn't his so-called witness. Hughes doesn't know it yet, but one of his so-called witnesses is the daughter of Admiral Bennet. She set the record straight."

Both officers breathed a sigh of relief. "That's good to know, but I'm not sure I can work with him after this," Mac said. "I'd like to request that I never be assigned to a case with him."

"You won't have to worry about that. Even if there were any truth to Hughes's accusations, and one or both of you had to leave, he's the last person I want on my staff. I'm going to call him in to discuss the matter, but here's what the two of you are going to do."

* * *

Rick Hughes watched the two senior officers left Chegwidden's office. He couldn't help but smirk when he saw their expressions. Rabb looked defeated. Mackenzie put on the "brave marine" look, but he knew it was a façade. Their world just got turned upside down.

Neither of them said a word as they went to their respective offices, closing the doors behind them.

_Enjoy that space while you can, Rabb. Pretty soon it will be mine._

Hughes went back to his own office. He had just sat down when his phone buzzed.

"The admiral wants to see you," Tiner said.

"Tell him I'm on my way." He couldn't help but laugh. This was going to be fun.

* * *

A J Chegwidden stood in front of his desk when Hughes entered the room. He didn't bother to ask him to sit down. He wanted nothing more than to slap the smirk off the man's face, but it wouldn't be there long.

"Hughes, I've looked into the accusations you made, including talking with your witness as well as Rabb and Mackenzie."

"I see, sir. I'm sure you agree about conduct unbecoming."

A J folded his arms. "Matter of fact I do. Imagine my surprise when I received a phone call yesterday from Stephanie Bennett. She told me about how you tried to blackmail her into lying."

Rick's eyes grew wide. "She said what?"

"Thought your tactics would work this time, didn't you?"

Hughes swallowed nervously. "I'm not sure what you're talking about, Sir."

A J rose to his full height and stood face to face with the office. "Do NOT speak until I'm finished with you! I don't like scumbags, and that's what you've become. You lied and tried to manipulate me into bringing charges against two of the finest officers I've ever had serve under me.

"There's been conduct unbecoming, all right, and that is from you. Now, do you have anything to say for yourself?"

"Sir, Stephanie Bennet is the one who lied. I should have known better than to believe her. She's had psychological problems for years."

"Enough! What you didn't know is that Stephanie Bennet is the daughter of one of my closest friends. I've known her for years. She came clean with her father a couple some time ago and sought help for her problems. Been sober for close to three years.

"But, sir I can assure you she told me she witnessed Rabb and Mackenzie—"

"Enough! I'm not through speaking. Not only did you try to manipulate Stephanie Bennett, but your actions in the courtroom a few weeks ago were also deplorable. Trying to use the colonel's personal life to get what you want doesn't go over well with me.

"What's more, others here have noticed things you've done. Bet you'd be surprised to know I also spoke with the SECNAV. You can't lie your way out of this one."

Hughes didn't speak.

"You were once a good attorney. That's why I brought you here. I'm not sure when you allowed greed to get in the way of what should have been a promising career. As of this moment, you're suspended without pay, pending the outcome of an Article 32 investigation. You have one hour to pack up your things. Now, get out of my office. I never want to see your face again."


	22. Love Will Keep Us Alive

_A/N: At last, here's the final chapter of Missing. It takes place a year after Harm's crash and Mac's planned wedding to Brumby. Unlike in the show, Bud wasn't injured in Afghanistan. The setting is a product of my imagination. The title comes from a song by The Eagles._

**Love Will Keep Us Alive**

**Hidden Hills Farms - Rural Virginia  
May 25, 2002  
1730 Local**

Sarah Mackenzie looked in the full-length mirror as Harriet made the final adjustments to her wedding gown. She could hardly contain her excitement.

Harriet smiled. "You look so beautiful. I'm so happy for you. And I don't have to ask if you're happy."

Mac recalled a similar conversation one year earlier.

_You look so beautiful. _

_Harriet, save it for the wedding._

_I'm so happy for you. Aren't you happy for you? _

_Yeah, of course_.

It was a lie. She'd tried to justify her lack of enthusiasm because her best friend probably wouldn't be at her wedding. She wasn't happy to be marrying Mic. It took Harm crashing in the Atlantic to make her realize the truth.

If Harm had made it back, would he have tried to stop her from marrying Mic? If so, would she have listened to him, or defiantly gone through with the wedding? She would have been saddled with a lifetime of misery.

At any rate, today wasn't one to rehash old memories. Today was marrying the man of her dreams in the type of wedding she wanted.

Both she and Harm wanted something simple. The venue in rural Virginia was perfect. Hidden Hills was once a working farm. The farmhouse was now a bed and breakfast. The barn had been turned into a venue for weddings and other special occasions.

Mac had chosen a simple floor-length dress with an empire waist and lightly flared skirt. Instead of a veil, she wore baby's breath in her hair. Harm didn't want a military wedding, thinking this should be more for Harm and Sarah, not the commander and the colonel.

But when Mac requested that he wear his dress whites and gold wings, he relented. Yes, she'd fallen in love with Harm the man, but the navy was a part of him. She hoped he'd like the little surprise she'd planned.

* * *

Harmon Rabb Jr. glanced at his watch for what must have been the twentieth time in the last five minutes. Would 1800 ever get here? It seemed like one minute lasted at least an hour.

He fidgeted with the collar of his dress white uniform, then began to pace the floor.

"Nervous?" Bud asked.

"No. Why would you think that?"

"You're pacing, sir."

Harm stopped, then smiled. "I guess you're right, Bud."

"It is a big day for you, sir."

"Bud, do you think for once you can forget about protocol and call me Harm? We're not on duty, and you _are_ my best man."

"Force of habit, s— Harm."

"That's better."

Harm stood by the window that overlooked the Virginia countryside. A year ago, he was flying in from the Patrick Henry in hopes of stopping Mac's wedding to Brumby. He'd often wondered what would have happened if he hadn't crashed. Would he have had the courage to go through with his plans? Or accept that Mac was happy with her choice and watched her get married to that pompous jackass?

He shook off his thoughts. This wasn't time to think about the past. In a few minutes, the love of his life would walk down the aisle. To him.

Harm was glad Mac didn't want a big, formal wedding. He knew she had been uncomfortable with the grandiose affair Mic had planned. She'd wanted a simple, outdoor event with a couple of goats as witnesses.

Their wedding would have a few more witnesses, but it was perfect for the surprise Harm planned for her.

* * *

A soft knock brought Mac from her thoughts. Harriet opened the door for Chloe. Mac marveled at the way she was growing into a young woman. She wore a tea-length ivory dress with a sage green sash. Although Chloe was a little too old to be a flower girl, there was no way Mac wouldn't have her "little sister" in the wedding.

"This is like the best day ever. I always knew you and Harm were meant to be together." Chloe turned to Harriet. "I knew it before she did."

"You did?"

"Anyone could see it. Except for them, of course. I realized it before Harm left to return to flying." Chloe went on to tell Harriet about that time. "By the way, who won the office pool?"

"Office pool? What are you talking about?" Mac asked.

Harriet blushed. "Um… Well… we, um…"

"Harriet!"

"Well, darn it, ma'am. Chloe's right. Everyone could see it. I don't even recall who thought of it first."

Mac smiled. "So, who did win?"

"Let's just say that Bud is taking me to a nice bed and breakfast next weekend to celebrate our anniversary."

Another knock came. This time Chloe answered, and A J Chegwidden stood at the door. "Are you ready, Mac?"

"More than ready."

* * *

Harm stood at the altar with Bud at his side, watching as Harriet walked toward them with Chloe close behind.

"Relax son," Chaplain Turner spoke softly. "It won't be long before you see your bride."

He let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. The Navy Chaplain had read his thoughts. Harriet and Chloe reached the alter, then the guests stood as the wedding march began.

Finally. _Finally!_ Mac smiled as she walked down the aisle on the arm of A J Chegwidden. Harm knew he was biased, but there had never been a more beautiful bride. Harm wasted a lot of years, and because of his stupidity, nearly lost her to another man. But today was the start of forever.

* * *

"I now pronounce you man and wife. What God has joined together, let no man put asunder."

Mac smiled, and Harm flashed his flyboy grin before he pressed his lips to hers. The kiss went on a little longer than was conventional, but Mac didn't care. It wasn't until the catcalls started that they pulled apart, then walked down the aisle arm-in-arm.

Before they reached the outer door, Mac pulled him aside to an alcove. "This is where we stop for now, flyboy."

Harm looked puzzled. Bud and Harriet left the building, and other guests began piling out. "What's going on, Mac?"

"Be patient. You'll see."

"Okay, but don't say it's my fault if we're late to the reception," Harm teased.

After a few minutes, Chloe stuck her head in the door. "It's time," she said before dashing back outside.

Mac and Harm walked to the door where a group of Naval officers stood on either side in their dress whites.

"Mac, you didn't."

"Yes, I did."

Bud spoke. "Officers, draw swords.

"Arch swords.

"Blades to the wind. Presenting, for the first time in public, Commander and Mrs. Harmon Rabb Jr."

They walked beneath the arch. Despite the fact he was best man, Bud couldn't see himself swatting Mac's six with a sword.

A J did it instead. "Go, Navy."

"Return sword. Dismissed."

"Thank you for that, Mac. It means a lot."

They started to walk to the covered pavilion when Mac heard bells tinkling. She looked toward the little hillside where a man led a pair of goats. She gasped in surprise. "You remembered."

They watched as the goats disappeared over the hillside.


End file.
